The Dead
by Whas'up
Summary: A year or two has passed since the events of Journey's End, and Donna has slipped through the cracks. Abandoned and alone Donna has suffered consequences no one could foresee. Yes, it's a Donna has remembered fic. My First Fic! YAY!
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHORS NOTE: Welcome to my world of wonders! Explore and don't get lost!**

"Mr. Houst?" she asked, smiling.

The handsome man sitting alone at the café table looked up from his paper and looked her up and down, "Well hello, hello," he purred his Texan drawl sticking to his tongue like honey.

"We have a mutual friend, Mr. Houst." She said holding out her hand for him to shake.

He reached forward, flinching when he gripped her cold hand, even though he knew his hand was just as cold. He looked down in surprise before looking up at her again; sweeping his hand in a gesture that asked her to sit at the café table with him. She sat down as a waitress appeared before her, "Tea, please," she told her before looking back at Mr. Houst.

He was chuckling, "I'll never understand y'all's preoccupation with tea, now coffee," he said, holding up his cup with relish, "There's a drink a man can drink." He took a drink savoring the taste before opening his mouth again, "Now what would be the name of this mutual friend?"

"You never knew his name," she said.

"How am I supposed to know who you are talking about if I don't know his name?"

"Not knowing his name didn't stop you from making a deal with him," she said as she took the proffered drink from the waitress.

He froze, comically holding his steaming cups centimeter's from his lips, his mouth still open in anticipation as he looked up at her.

"Not knowing his name didn't stop you from accepting his aid when your death was imminent," she said, taking a dainty sip from her cup. Tilting her head at him, a small sad smile playing on her lips as she reached out and gently pushed his coffee cup back onto the table.

"It's not time yet," he whispered.

"Well," she said turning her head and surveying the London street in interest. "You've had a hundred years, you look good for over two hundred, by the way," she added with a wink, her face turned serious a moment later, "a hundred more than any man should rightfully have, how much more do you want?"

"I want to stay forever," he said, swallowing as he looked at her with wide eyes. "I'm not meant to die."

"Every song must end," she asked looking back at him intensely. She shook her head and shrugged, "What would you give him?"

"Anything," he cried, ignoring the looks passers-bys were giving him.

She leaned back in her chair, studying him as she cradled her cup in her hands, "And if he told you to kill that woman?" she said, nodding her head at a young woman holding a newborn in her arms.

He didn't even look, just nodded his head, "In an instant."

She shook her head, laughing without any humor. She stood up depositing her cup on the table and reaching into her pocket for some money, placing it on the table next to their cups. She held out her hand. "You're time is already over, he's taken the gift away. You're mortal now, and you have to die."

Mr. Houst looked resigned as he drained his cup and then grabbed her hand. He stood and they began to walk away from the café. Tears came to his eyes as they swept across the street and down towards the bridge they were fast approaching, he looked down at her, "How'd we ever get into a mess like this, eh?"

She looked at him sadly, "He offered us life and we couldn't refuse."

He sniffed and wiped his face with his free hand, "It was a good life, long life, I should be happy."

"I'm sorry your time has ended," she said earnestly.

"Not your fault I sold my soul," he chuckled, his face twisting in a disdainful grimace as they walked onto the bridge.

They walked in silence until they reached the middle of the bridge; she stopped, pulling on his hand until he turned to face her. He shrugged as he looked over the edge, not reacting to the long drop. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, looking down at her.

She nodded her head.

"Haven't kissed a woman in over twenty years," he smiled, "and I haven't kissed a red head in twice that long, do you mind?" he asked, drawing her slowly towards him by the hand.

"There was a time I'd have slapped you for that," she said quietly.

"And now?" he asked.

"How could I say no to a dying man?" she said before drawing him down by his coat lapels.

The knowledge of his impending death gave the kiss a desperate quality, and he clung to her, grasping her arms hard enough to bruise her. They broke apart as a long shrill wolf whistle was thrown at them from a man passing by.

He stepped away from her, "How do I look?" he asked turning in a circle, "Think a tie is too formal?"

She laughed, reached out and tightened and straightening his tie. "You look good, Mr. Houst."

"Call me Bill," he said as he walked over to the side of the bridge. He took a deep breath before turning his head to look at her, "What's your name?"

She swept her windblown red hair out of her face, "I'm Donna."

"I'm glad I met you Donna," he said before swinging himself over the barricade and jumping off the bridge.

Donna closed her eyes as others on the sidewalk screamed and ran to see what had happened. She turned on her heel and began to walk away wiping at her eyes, not seeing a man staring after her. A man in a long trench coat, and suspenders, a man watching Donna walk away as he pulled out his phone.

Dialing it without looking down he brought it to his ear, "Martha, I think we have a situation."

* * *

"Is it done?" he asked, his cold voice sending a chill down her spine.

"Yes," Donna said taking a few more hesitant steps towards him.

"Good girl," he purred, he turned and looked at her, smiling. He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her closer; he bent down and pressed a light kiss on her lips. He drew back, licking his lips questioningly, "Gave him a kiss goodbye, did you?" he asked finally, looking down at her with a smirk.

Donna nodded slowly, placing her open palm on his chest, no longer shocked not to feel a heart beating there.

He looked away from her, shaking his head, "You all have such a bond, I'll never understand it." He began to walk away, not stopping when she stumbled in his grasp. "They say death brings you closer, I suppose it's true."

They stopped suddenly and he threw Donna against the wall, his hand flew out and hit the side of her face. He hit her again, and again, until she finally just slumped herself down to the floor, looking up at him sadly. He crouched down next to her cradling her bleeding face in his hands, a look of distant remorse on his face, "I wish that wasn't necessary, but you need to know that you are mine and no one else's. You're special, unique, especially now, and you're mine."

He stood up and without looking behind him he strode out of the room. Leaving Donna alone in the room as she cried silently, her hands coming to cover her face.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who, but if I did that would be awesome and I'd share it with you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHORS NOTE: ****Okay, thank all of you who reviewed, that was totally awesome of you! But I just want you to know that I can't answer you're questions if you haven't logged in (I'm talking to you Cookie) because otherwise I don't know your email address. I hope this chapter answers some of you're questions.**

The Doctor stepped out of the Tardis with a happy spring in his step, not yet noticing Martha and Jack's sad eyes. He smiled at them as he swept them both into hugs before pulling back and looking at them properly. "What is it?" he asked as studied their frowning faces in concern.

"I'm sorry we had to call you, this situation is…" she stumbled over the words as she shook her head, "It's just not what we expected."

"What situation? Why'd you call me?" The Doctor asked as he took a step back, waiting for them to speak.

"Donna's dead," Jack blurted out, the Doctor's face fell, shock and sadness entering his eyes. Jack raised his hand in apology before continuing, "But the thing is that she's not dead, I saw her yesterday."

A look of confusion almost overlapped the Doctors sadness, "What?" he asked.

Jack waved for him to follow as he made his way to one of the computers in the Hub, "I was in London yesterday, don't ask me why, when I saw Donna walking with this man. I thought it was her boyfriend, especially when they started sucking each other's face off, but then he threw himself off a bridge."

"Donna always did have that affect on people," the Doctor said with a smirk.

Martha looked up at him, "Stop it," she hissed. "She saved the universe, she was your best friend and this is the way you talk about her?" she asked.

The Doctor instantly looked ashamed, he swallowed, "I'm sorry, you're right." He looked up at Jack, "So?" he asked, trying to steer the conversation back on topic.

"Obviously I was interested as to why Donna was walking with the man, so I looked her up when I got back to Torchwood. I found this," he said as he leaned towards a computer and tapped a key. A death certificate came up, the name Donna Noble printed callously on the dotted line.

The Doctor stepped closer to it, his brows furrowed as he read the document. "Drug overdose," he murmured, his voice sounding broken. He swallowed and moved down the document until he found the date of her death, "She's been dead for thirteen months," he said accusatorily as he turned to look at Martha and Jack. They looked down at their shoes, "Why didn't you call me then!" the Doctor asked.

"Because we didn't know," Martha said, not looking up.

"I told you to watch out for her!" he said, storming past them and shaking his head in frustration.

"Doctor," Jack said, taking a step closer to the Doctor's back, "you're forgetting something here." The Doctor turned back to him, "I saw her yesterday, and she was most definitely not dead."

"Tell me," the Doctor ordered.

Jack nodded, "She was walking with this man, holding his hand, they both looked really depressed until they started to make out then they looked," he paused, tilting his head in thought, "not happy, but not sad either and then he jumped off the bridge," Jack concluded.

"Do you know who the man is, well," the Doctor brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck, "was? Who he was?"

Jack turned and brought up the police report from the incident, "Nope, he's not in the system anywhere. Not even conventional networks, there was a name on all of his documentation, Bill Houst, but that's all a dead end."

"Is that all you have?" the doctor asked.

Jack looked somewhat offended at his tone, but decided to ignore it. He shrugged in apology, "We were thinking you could get to the bottom of it."

"All right!" the Doctor called, clapping his hands together and turning on his heel, "Who wants to come along?" he asked as he began to walk back to the Tardis.

Martha and Jack, following out of sheer habit, looked at him questioningly, "Along where?" Martha asked.

The Doctor opened the door, leading them all through into the great ship, before turning to them with a sad sort of smile. "We're going to go see Donna's grandfather," he said before pulling down a lever.

* * *

Wilfred Mott looked up as a grating sound filled his ears. A flicker of surprise shifted through his face before a blanket of sadness landed there instead. The Tardis, in all its blue glory, appeared in the street right in his path. He stopped as the door creaked open and the Doctor exited, looking at him with a sad smile.

"Hello, Wilf," he said before moving and letting two other people out of the Tardis behind him.

Wilf nodded his head in acknowledgment, "Doctor," he greeted, his voice sounding cold even to his own ears.

"I need to talk to you about Donna," the Doctor said, taking a step closer to Wilf.

Wilf's shoulders sank at the sound of his grand-daughters name, but he raised his chin as he stared up at the Doctor. "Wondered how long it would be before you showed up, had a long wait, did you have better things to do?"

His bitter words stung the Doctor, he flinched minutely. "I'm sorry, I didn't know-" he began before Wilf shook his head with a hurtful laugh.

"You didn't know?" he asked. "I suppose you wouldn't, not after dumping Donna on our doorstep, leaving her without a second glance."

"That's not-" the Doctor began, trying to defend himself.

"After throwing her aside like she was nothing, like she was trash!" Wilf shouted, taking a feeble step forward.

"That's not how it was!" the Doctor shouted, glaring daggers at the old man.

Wilf sighed, a long suffering sigh before shaking his head wearily, "Do you have any idea what it was like for her?" he said quietly, his anger turning into a deep heart breaking sadness. "She thought she was going insane, she'd remember things, terrible things, but she'd know they'd never happened to her." He shook his head, turning his face away from the Doctor, "She could feel the Earth moving around the sun, she could see what others couldn't, what they couldn't even imagine, and it drove her mad."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor whispered, his brown eyes downcast.

"She should have died a hero, saving the universe," Wilf said, his voice ringing out empty, "instead she dies a drug riddled rat in an alleyway, searching for something she doesn't know she's searching for."

"Why the drugs?" the Doctor asked, lifting his eyes to look at Wilf, his eyes desperate for an answer.

Wilf shrugged, "They made the pain go away," he said, "just for a little while. They made her feel in control, made her feel like she wasn't crazy; they made her world slow down enough for her to live it."

The Doctor closed his eyes as he felt a supporting hand land on his shoulder. He turned to see jack looking at him sadly. He looked back at Wilf as the old man began to walk down the road again, "You did that to her," Wilf said, "you coward," he hissed as he walked past the Tardis and walked away.

Martha, jack, and the Doctor stood there in awkward silence for a moment before Jack smirked. "Guess that didn't work out the way you wanted?"

The Doctor smiled somewhat before turning back to the Tardis, "Well now we know that where ever Donna is her family doesn't know about it. They think she's dead, like the rest of the world."

"How is that helpful?" Martha asked as she opened the Tardis door.

"She's not in control of her situation; she'd never abandon her family like that. We need to help her," The doctor said as he walked into his ship.

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine, but maybe one day....bwahahahaha!**


	3. Chapter 3

She stirred her tea, her bright eyes peering out from between her brown bangs, her mouth set in a sad and determined line. She shifted, her hand smoothing out the non existent wrinkles in her blue skirt, the blue skirt bought with Donna's help today. She hadn't been sure, it rode a little higher then was her custom, but, as Donna had said, what does it really matter now?

Her eyes scanned the crowd around her restlessly, looking for one face to emerge out of the populace, perhaps two. With an imperceptable sigh she looked down at her tea, stirring it uselessly with her spoon. She didn't have time, not for this, not to wait for a woman and her son to walk down a street. She stood, looked around her, thinking for a moment, this was her only hope really, Unit was unacceptable, Torchwood was unacceptable, but Sarah Jane, who had seen impossible things, who had travelled with the Doctor, would be able to understand.

She sat back down, her hands gripping the edge of the table top gently. She looked down at her hands, her jaw clenching as she remembered Donna's face earlier in the day, black and blue and swollen. She remembered Donna's voice, admonishing herself for her foolishness, for forcing his hand. And it was unacceptable, what had happened to Donna yesterday, what had happened to Donna thirteen months ago, what had happened to Donna two years ago, it was all unacceptable. Life had not been fair to the red headed, loud mouthed, surprisingly tender woman named Donna Noble.

But then, if she stopped to think, to really think, life had not been fair to her either. Life was never fair. But it should be, she decided, her determination strengthening, her eyes looking up to scan the ever moving crowd again.

She heard Sarah Jane's voice from behind her. She turned, listening as Sarah Jane and her son, Luke she remembered, walked closer, oblivious to her scrutiny. Sarah Jane looked much the same as the last time she had seen her, through a computer screen for five minutes two years ago. Her son though, he had grown, shooting up like a sprout. He'd be eighteen by now, practically a man, she knew.

She stood, leaving money on the table for the tea, walking closer to Sarah Jane's approaching form. She stuck her hands in her coat pockets, lifting her chin as she stepped in front of them. She smiled, not unkindly, as their conversation ceased abruptly. Sarah Jane and her son Luke looked at her like she was a ghost or a monster, something hideous and grotesque, they took a step back with similair expressions of shock.

"You're dead," the boy said. So much for tact, she thought, running an appraising eye over the boy's face.

"Yes," she replied, though she knew it had not been a question.

Sarah Jane shook her head, her mouth still gaping like a fish, "Are you from another time?" she tried to reason.

"No."

Sarah Jane took a deep breath, reaching out an arm to wrap around Luke, "What are you doing here, Harriet Jones?" she asked.

**Authors note: The return of Harriet Jones! Sorry this was so uber short, but I just needed to get Harriet Jones in there, hope ya like it, and review! (Don't make me beg!) (Oh, all right, i'm begging, *Falls to Knees!*)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Okay, Donna is dead, truly and definately dead. Then how is she walking around, you wonder? Well **_**he**_** brought her back, along with Harriet Jones, who is also well and truly dead, how? Wait and see my lovely friends. Donna totally has the Time Lord mind in her, it was restored along with her life after she died, and since she cannot die now, which she can't (by the way) she is merely losing her mind. K?**

The Master sighed, leaning back against the peach colored walls while crossing his arms irritably over his chest. He glanced about the full room, one eye narrowed calculatingly, the side of his lip raised in semi disgust. He nodded in greeting as Harriet Jones entered the room, a patronizing smile growing on his face as she nodded at him, a tight grimace of a smile on her pale face. She turned and swept into the opposite end of the room. The Master was contemplating going to her side and annoying her when an ice cold hand brushed against his neck. If it had not been for his remarkable Time Lord nerves, he might have jumped out of his skin as Donna Noble continued walking past him.

She stopped a couple of paces in front of him, turned to face him with a large contagious smile on her still bruised face. "Hello," Donna greeted, blue eyes twinkling at him in excitment, her hushed voice barely reaching him over the crowded room. She held up her hand, palm up, curling her fingers in invitation, "I have a surprise," she whispered, stepping away from him teasingly, forcing to reach out and grab her proffered hand quickly, a smile tugging at his resisting lips.

"What is it?" He asked irritably, as she led him towards the door. "It better not take long, _he'll_ be upset if were not here when he deigns us with his presence."

She turned her head minutely, her frantic eyes roaming over him, looking into him, through him, and all around him at once, unnerving him to no end. Her smile dimmed, "Felspoon," she murmered, turning away from him, "mountains the sway in the breeze, mountains that move, can you imagine?" she said, tugging his hand as they left the room.

The Master looked down at her in mild concern, wondering if he really should leave the conference room with a woman who had lost her mind so long ago. She stopped, turning to him, anger bright in her rarely lucid eyes, "Oi!" she cried indignintly, "I haven't lost anything, got that Freak!" she said in as loud a voice as he had ever heard her use, which was only a little louder then his normal speaking voice. She turned away again, marching him down the hallway, "Know right where I left it," she murmered, half to herself, half to him, "Right behind the jam, or the ham, Pam, clam, sham, lamb, that one's interesting, silent b in there."

Donna bit down on her bottem lip, and the Master knew she was trying to control the impulse to continue talking, to never stop, not for a second, to let the information in her head run freely through her mouth. With a deep breath, Donna threw the thoughts clouding her other thoughts clear from her mind, and he was proud of her, and, though he would never admit it, he was so proud that he tightened his hold on her hand for a second. Then dropped her hand a second later when he realized that she'd been looking in his mind, and had read his thoughts as easily as if his mind was a book, that's what having Time Lord mind did for you, or for her more accurately. She looked over her shoulder at him, a shimmer of hurt and confusion entering her gaze before she turned away again, making him feel as if he'd kicked a puppy, a mentally unstable ginger puppy.

"Hey, half breed," he said, stopping in the middle of the hallway after walking for quite a bit.

She stopped, looking back at him, her head tilted to the side, letting her red hair fall over her shoulder, a manic gleam in her restless eyes. She shook her head, "Don't call me that," she said in a crazily calm voice that instantly unnerved him. Unnerving him, it seemed, was one of Donna Noble's greatest talents.

Grinding his teeth slightly, he began again in a mocking tone that Donna either ignored or didn't notice, "Fine, _Donna_, where are we going?"

"Going?" she echoed.

"Oh, wonderful, you've forgotten!" He yelled, turning on his heel to return to the meeting.

"Don't walk away from me," Donna whispered, her toneless voice stilling him against his will. He did not turn to look at her as he heard the click clack of her boots closing in on him, "I have a surprise for you," she said, her voice so happy that she almost sounded like a child. He shook his mental self sharply, she was anything but a child, he told himself, she was a deranged woman with the mind of a god, and a body that would never die, just like him.

"Well, what is it then?" he growled, feeling her practically leaning against his back

He shivered as one of her cold hands went to the back of his neck, while the other wrapped around him to hold something in front of his face. He blinked down at the thing sitting in front of his eyes, then, slowly, it dawned on him, and a brilliant smile grew on his face. He reached up and grabbed the tubular device from her hand. "Laser screwdriver," he said.

She nodded, her chin rubbing against his back as she smiled, "But you mustn't tell him, never tell, a secret, you and me, he'll take it away."

"Where did you get it?"

"Built it, just for you, just for you, just for you, just for you, just for you," she shook herself, "added red settings."

"Red settings? I don't even know what that means!" he cried.

"Something new, a present, for your birthday," Donna whispered.

He stiffened, "My birthday?"

She stepped away from him, walking dazedly towards the conference room, singing 'How old are you now?' under her breath. He watched her go, his eyes caught somewhere between delirius happiness and terrible sadness. In the end, he pocketed Donna's gift and followed her path back to the board room.

OOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOO

"Some of you, it seems, have forgotten what I did for all of you!" he thundered over their heads. The Master stood at the back of the room, adopting an unconcerned air as he observed the scene before him.

The yelling man walked about the room, looking into the frightened eyes of everyone he passed, until he reached a young woman with chocolate brown hair, he smiled nastily at her. "Hello, Rachel, do you remember where I found you?"

She swallowed, "The bottem of the sea."

"Yes, that's right, a boating accident, what an undignified way to go, and what did I tell you?"

"You told me I could live again," she said, her words growing more and more rushed in her fright.

"That's right, I see your temporary stint in the after life didn't affect your memory Rachel, and what did I need in return?"

"My service," she said.

"Very good," he crooned in approval.

He continued walking, stopping at an older man. "And where did I find you, Sean?"

"My flat," Sean said.

"And what had happened to you?"

"Shot in the face."

"Well," he said, patting Seans cheek too harshly to be considered affectionate, "you don't look any worse for the wear."

He walked towards Donna, whose eyes were pointed out the window, he grabbed her chin, forcing her face towards him. "And you, Donna?" he whispered.

She smiled lazily up at him, her own fingers coming up to caress the side of his face, "The morgue," she stated, "not very exotic, I'm afraid."

His eyes softened slightly, his grasp on her face loosening as the tips of her fingers came down to touch the underside of his chin lighlty. "There are worse things to be afraid of, albatross. And the bane of your existence?"

Donna laughed, her eyes twinkling, the sound a stark contrast to the tension in the room, "It doesn't matter, nothing matters, don't you see?" she asked. "Can't you see?" she cried, her voice rising hysterically, "Are you blind? There's fire over the edge! Don't step off the edge!" And then she laughed again, melodious and harsh at once, unforgiving and friendly together, mad and lucid rolled into one. Harriet Jones took a step towards Donna, her hand out reached to grasp her shoulder, but he sent a glare before shooting his fist out and hitting Donna in the face.

With a gasp, Donna broke off her laughter, snatching her hand back from his face to feel her own.

"That hurt," she whispered, her too innocent voice filled with confusion and fear.

He looked down at her with what could be called regret before pulled her face up to meet his, kissing her on the lips with bruising force. The others in the room averted their eyes, all of them knew what he was doing, marking her, telling them all that she was his and no one elses. A whimper from Donna made them look again, it had not been a sound of pleasure or gratification, it was pained. Even now, when kissing her, he was hurting her, squeezing her too tight, leaving bruises on her arms and neck. After a long while, he looked up at them again, one hand still grasping the side of Donna's neck, "I brought you all back, I didn't have too. You do what I say, or you do nothing! Leave!"

Harriet Jones and the Master were the last to leave the room, both reluctent to leave Donna behind with _him_. As they entered the hall, both trying to convince themselves that they hadn't seen Donna being thrown to the floor or hear her screaming through the closing door, their eyes met. And for the first time in a very long time, the Master felt deep anger rise in his soul, if nothing else Donna was his brethren, his kin, her Time Lord mind granting her that status. At the most, in her lucid states, when she could be witty and brilliant and challenge everything he knew, she was his friend. So, looking in Harriet's eyes he decided something, he was going to kill the man who gave him a second chance and save Donna Noble. And all with Harriet's help.

**DISCLAIMER: NOT MINE! (not yet, buwahhahahaha...) But seriously props go to BBC or whoever owns the Doctor and Doctor Who....**


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: In this chapter...**

**MakeLoveNotSense, an explanation of the Harriet and Sarah Jane situation, for you. Hope it's alright.**

**WeepingAngel123, oh, you know, I'm trying for general awesomness, 'cause I'd like to give you as good a story as you've given me (All This Trainer Talk)!**

**xAngelus's Darlax, for you, a look into the twisted and dangerous relationship of Donna and _Him_, you know who i'm talkin' 'bout.**

**OOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO**

At five in the morning He sat on the side of the bed as he finished getting dressed for the new day, with his feet planted firmly on the ground, he twisted slighlty to run his hand down Donna's naked back, his fingers ghosting over her spine, his touch feather light. She sighed, a tiny sound of indecision, her mind caught somewhere between waking up and staying asleep in their bed. He leaned down, his freshly clothed chest landing agaisnt her back and side heavily, with a tiny squeak of pain Donna's eyes flew open. She looked up at him, one side of her face still resting agaisnt the pillow, red hair spread around her pale face like flames.

"I need you to do something for me, something very important," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her pale shoulder.

"What?" she asked, annoyance creeping into her tone. He grabbed her upper arm, squeezing until he felt soft flesh give way, until he could feel her muscles begin to twitch under the assault. "Please, stop..." she whispered, the pain piercing it's way through her muddled mind.

With the release of a great breath he got off of her, releasing her creamy appendages from his rough grasp. "I need you to do something," he told her as he walked across the room to the large windows, pulling the orange curtains aside. "You have to stay here today, Donna, try to do something useful. And try to dress up a little, look pretty."

She rolled over onto her back, pulling the bedsheet up over the majority of her body, she looked around the room for a second before her blue eyes looked up at him again, "Why?" she asked. He shook his head, she always had been far more lucid in the morning, when her brain was still some-what asleep, when her mind could work without being quite so stressed.

He turned to her, a smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight of her, her pale skin, almost translucent now, against black sheets.

He picked up a wristwatch sitting on the side table and pulled it on, "I want my woman to look good."

Donna's eyebrow rose as she climbed to her knees, kneeling on the bed in front of him, eye to eye. She wrapped the black sheet toga style around herself, running a hand through her red mane, "Not your woman," she teased, her voice growing more frantic and unstable by the second as her brain began to warm up.

He surprised himself by getting amused instead of angry at her insolence, "Ah," he whispered stepping close to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, "but I'm your man."

Donna's eyes lost focus as her over working brain kicked in, her eyes once again, as they did most of the time, looked through him, or past him, all around him, into him. She shook her head, the tips of her hair hitting his cheeks, "Not a man," she muttered.

He stiffened, anger rising within him, he lowered his hands to her hips, digging his fingers into them without his actually meaning too. "Don't say that, don't ever say that," he told her, his tone icy cold.

Donna only smiled at him, tilting her head to the right, she let go of the sheet she was holding around herself, it dropped to the bed a second later. She slid her hands up her naked sides, stopping as she reached her collar bone, with a curious expression on her face she said, "Not a woman." Her head tilted to he left as she reached out to drag her hands up his chest, "Not a man," she said, grabbing onto his shoulders. "What are we?" she asked, her voice shrill in the morning air, "What are we?" she asked in a panicked whisper.

He pushed her away from him, making her lose her balance and fall over backwards onto the bed. With a growl he crawled on top of her, grabbing her wrists and holding them down, leaning all his weight on her too thin body, "I'll show you a man," he muttered before crashing his lips onto hers, ignoring her pain filled yelps and cries as he maneuvered her legs around his waist.

OOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO

At six thirty in the morning the Master looked up from his orange juice to see Donna walking shakily into the kitchen, her eyes somehow both vacant and painfully aware at once. The Master sighed, today was going to be a less then lucid one, he could tell, some days, rare days, Donna could actually function, could go into the world and do usefull things for _him, _could go shopping with Harriet, could talk to the Master like a Time Lord and make him feel less lonely. She collapsed into the chair next to him, reaching out blindly for the piece of toast on his plate, which he let her take with merely an eyebrow raised. "Donna?" he ventured, cataloging the new bruises on her face and wrists.

She turned vaquely in his direction, and with a mouth filled with toast she answered, "Yes."

The Master looked at her with a mix of emotions running through him. Normally the sight of her cheeks literally filled with toast may have been comical, but now it only made him sad.

"Nothing, Donna, just eat," he told her, watching as she continued chewing, watching as she swallowed the food, watching as she reached out for his orange juice. That is, however, when he stopped _just_ watching, he pounced on his orange juice protecting it from her greedy hands. "My OJ! Get your own, you half bred bint!"

And with a playfull pout she stood and made her zig zaging way to the refrigerator.

The Master turned back to his breakfest, ignoring the odd bursts of dialogue, sporadic singing of songs, and the half thought out whispers echoing around the kitchen, courtesy of one Donna Noble. He stabbed a fork full of eggs and shoved the delicious food into his mouth. "Messaline, seven days, only seven days, that's called a week, a week?" Donna said in the background. "Yes, yes," she assured herself, "a week is seven days." The Master cut off a hearty piece of ham steak and shoved that into his mouth. "Because I can, don't tell me I can't, you're not my keeper!" Donna whispered, her voice cold, and directed at someone who, most probably, wasn't there.

He picked up his last slab of toast, preparing to take a bite of the buttery goodness when a new voice entered the kitchen. "That's the twelve grain bread, isn't it?" Harriet's voice asked. The Master looked up from his plate, smirking as he saw Harriet leaning on the doorframe leading into the kitchen. "Supposed to be healthier, I wonder why he bothers, not likely one of us will have a heart attack, now is it?" she asked.

"He buys it because she likes it," the Master said, gesturing behind him, towards Donna.

Harriet's eyes traveled up from his face to look behind him, further into the kitchen, where Donna was moving about, half hidden in the semi darkness of the room. "Donna?" she called, as she walked into the kitchen.

Donna's head twitched in Harriet's general direction before she spun in a circle, laughing breathlessly, "Not me that's moving, never me, always the room, the _room_ is spinning. Spacial dynamics are the same, not through space, space through us!" Donna stopped smiling as she grabbed the toaster and threw it to the floor, flinching as it landed with a loud clang, she looked down at it, blinking twice before moving on. She danced about in the dark kitchen, doing god knew what, for some insane reason that she had probably already forgotten.

Harriet sighed as she lowered herself into the chair opposite the Master, her eyes flickering between his face and the outline of Donna over his shoulder. "Hello," she greeted, her mouth a thin line.

The Master tipped his head at her as he took a bite of his toast.

"Ban it!" Donna screamed, throwing some unidentifiable thing onto the floor, "Can it! Dan it, Dan, Dan, that's a name, it's a name, I knew a Dan. Fan it, Gan it, Han it, Jan it, Kan it, Lan in, Man it! Man, man, humans, men, spreads forever, to the end, to Utopia! Pans!" She picked grabbed the pans from their hooks and threw them on the floor, screaming a language not even the Master knew. "Ran, I ran so fast, but not fast enough, never fast enough," she slumped down to the ground, Harriet could see her rocking back and forth in the dark.

She made to stand up, but the Master reached over the table to place a hand over her arm. "Leave her, she'll forget in a moment, just let her be."

Harriet looked uncertain, but remained, she locked her gaze on the Master. "We have to help her," she said without preamble, knowing that the Master knew she wasn't talking about right now.

"How?" he asked back, retrieving his hand.

"The Doctor," she whispered, leaning forward over the table top.

"NO!" they both flinched as Donna screamed, "Not him! Not him! He can't see, he's blind, we're invisible! He's gone, his friends and his box, and he left us, he left us, he left us, he left us!" She began to sob, tears coming from her eyes remarkably fast, streaming down her face as she rocked back and forth on the floor. "We died and the Doctor left us! He left us! He's life and we are death, we are opposites, and opposites don't attract, that was always a lie!" Harriet raced out of her chair, around the table, and towards Donna, wrapping her arms around the younger woman when she got there, running her hand over her hair gently, making shushing sounds. "Protons attract electrons! But we're not tiny!" Donna gasped, clutching Harriet's sweater with tight fists.

"Do you see what she's become?!" Harriet cried, looking at the Masters back imploringly.

He took another bite of toast, "What would you have us do?" he asked calmly.

"He'll save us, we just have to find him, or help him find us-"

"You lemming!" the master snorted, "The wonderful Doctor, just call his name and he saves you! The world isn't like that."

"We just have to find him!" Harriet said, looking down at Donna with knitted brows.

"Find the Doctor?" he mocked, stabbing at his eggs with his fork. "Track down his time traveling space ship, you mean? How silly of me to imagine that would be difficult!"

"He has friends here, old companions! They could contact him, if we were to contact them!" Harriet defended.

The Master stilled his ferocious eating, turning slowly in his chair to face Harriet, "You've already done it, haven't you?" he asked, looking down at her, shaking his head.

She looked up at him from the floor, completely undaunted, "It's for the best-"

"The best, the best?" he screamed, slamming his fist down on the table, rattling the silverware on his plate. "Who is it?" he demanded.

Harriet swallowed, "Sarah Jane Smith, I met with her yesterday, explained as much as I could, but I was called home, for that farce of a conference, I'm meeting with her again later today. I want you there with me."

He snorted, "Why?" he asked.

"Because you are Donna's friend! You owe it to her to try-"

"Don't!" he yelled, jumping up from his chair, pointing down at her threateningly, "just...dont. Don't even dare-"

Donna began to whimper his real name, the name he was given on Gallifray, he looked down, startled out of his anger. Harriet looked at him strangely, to her it sounded like nonsense, most likely, but it was his name, and he would recognize it no matter what voice it talked in. He knealt on the floor besides Donna and Harriet, reaching out to gently grab a handfull of Donna's ginger hair, to stroke it gently, as she continued calling him. He took a deep breath, looking from Donna's bruised face, tears running down her cheeks, to Harriets stony visage. With time practiced ease, the Master plunged into Donna's mind, just the surface of it, otherwise, he knew, he'd get lost quickly. It was a broken mirror, laying on the ground, shattered, each piece reflecting different light, each piece pointing at nothing. He took a mental step back, out of her terrifying head, and nodded, "Fine," he agreed, "when do we go?"

**_Disclaimer: not mine, if i had the stones i'd steal it...but i don't....so...._**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, this is all happens on the same day as chapter five, go time!**

**OOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO**

At six fifty seven in the morning Harriet Jones was called away from Donna's side, called by _him_, beckoned to his study, his voice adopting a crackily quality over the old intercom system. She left Donna alone with the Master in the kitchen, looking back only once to tell the Master that they'd be meeting Sarah Jane at her house at lunch time.

Three minutes later she stood outside the large oak doors that led to his sanctum, the one place he regarded as truly his own in this house, this house filled with the dead. Harriet shuddred, reaching out to knock the solid wood as she threw from her mind visions of Daleks, the rolling pepper pots entering her home and shooting her like a dog. She grasped the door knob lightly, waiting for his permission to enter the room, his special place.

"Come in, Harriet," he called, his voice muffled through the door.

She stepped inside, swinging the heavy door inward, looking down at the red blood carpet before scanning the room, her eyes glancing briefly at the pictures on his desk. One was of her, off to the side, slightly off center in a silver antigue frame, her smiling into the lense, wet hair stuck to her head and a wet umbrella in her hand. Another was of the Master, leaning against a brick wall, arms crossed over his chest, a patronizing grin on his lips, a manic gleam in his eyes. And, right at the center of the desk, a picture of Donna, smiling with the sun behind her head, red hair blowing in the wind, the tips turned gold with sun light. There were others, but she didn't really look at them.

"Good morning, Harriet, how are you?" he asked, not moving away from his standing place in front of the window.

"Fine, thank you," she said, taking her place in front of the desk, the tips of her fingers landing on it's polished surface lightly.

He turned his head minutely, to peer at her, a smile on his face, "I need your advice," he said, a tone in his voice that Harriet hadn't heard in a long while.

"Oh?" she asked, genuine curiosity flaring in her mind, it had been so long since he had talked with her, asked her advice, more then a year.

He turned to look at her fully, the soft look in his eyes shocking Harriet completely, he nodded, stepping towards the desk. "I..." he paused, rubbing his hand over his chin with an almost over whelmed expression on his face and a happy smile on his lips. He shook his head as he bent down to open a drawer and pull a small blue box out, placing it on the desk top with a sigh. He gestured at it for a moment, Harriet raised her eyebrow before hesitently reaching out towards the box, waiting to see if he would yell at her for picking it up. Her hand wrapped around the box, picking it up easily, the velvety feel of it's exterior rubbing against her palm.

"For Donna," he said quietly, watching her face intently.

Harriet felt her insides turn cold, inside her mind she was cringing, she knew what was in the box, on the outside, though, she merely nodded. She opened the box, and gasped as the morning light caught the beautiful ring inside. Just one stone on a platinum band, the stone wasn't large, but it wasn't small, it was opulant but not impractical, and it was absolutely perfect for Donna, and that made Harriet sad, because no matter how much he hurt Donna, he did know her enough to get her this pefect ring. "It's beautiful," she let out, speaking the truth.

He smiled, nodding his head hopefully, "You think so? I did, but I wanted to make sure, you're her best friend, you'd know." He continued talking, wrapped up in his own world, and Harriet merely watched him, remembering back to a time when life had been simpler. She hated to think it, but to a time without Donna, when his violence had been not so evident, when his anger could be reigned in, when he laughed and played and took pictures of her standing in the rain. She was disgusted with herself, but she missed that man.

"Why?" she asked, surprising herself.

"Pardon?" he asked, his confusion evident in his voice.

"You want to marry her," she said, looking up at him, her eyebrows knitted in question, "but you already have her, why do this?" she asked, raising the open ring box up for emphasis.

He pursed his lips, snatching the box back from her hand, "I don't have to explain myself to you," he growled, slamming his fist into the table and denting it. She took a hasty step back, whatever Harriet Jone's was, she was never a fool. "It's what people do," he said, "what _men_ do, they marry the woman they love."

"You love her?" Harriet asked in a little voice, afraid that he would lash out, but desperately wanting the answer.

He just looked at her, slowly raising his hand, pointing her towards the door, "Thank you for evaluating the ring, you can leave now Harriet."

She backed away slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. He couldn't love, she thought, he was a monster, monsters couldn't love, could they? She felt behind her back for the door knob, turning it and opening the door before turning into the hallway, slamming the door behind her in her haste. She leaned agaisnt it once outside, shallow breaths escaping her lips in puffs, he was a monster. A monster who hurt Donna, who had hurt Harriet on occasion, who laughed in the face of death and brought back the dead. It didn't matter if he did love her, if he promised to never lay a hand on Donna again, because there were no second chances, not now.

Harriet pushed herself off the door and walked down the hallway.

OOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO

At eight thirteen in the morning the Master found himself outside, lying on the grass, enjoying the sun, Donna next to him, the drums in his mind surprising quiet, the day now peaceful.

"I think Jenny is still alive," Donna said.

The Master glanced at her sideways, his head still pointed towards the sky, "You think so?" he asked. He didn't particularly care who Jenny was, or whether she was alive or not, but he'd finally calmed Donna down enough for her to be still, and he wasn't going to upset her, not now.

"Yes," she turned on her side, resting her face on her arm, "I think I can feel her."

That certainly piqued his interest, he turned on his side, "feel her?" he asked.

She smiled placing her hand on his chest, "Like you, but different, she's so young, so new, she doesn't know enough yet. Like the Doctor, I can feel him sometimes, but he's so old, and has been alone so long, he's forgotten."

"I'm different?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she breathed, nodding enthusiastically, "you're tarnished silver, faded, an echo, a ghost."

"I think I should feel insulted," he muttered, rolling back onto his back.

"Oh, Jenny, she was so bright," Donna sighed, picking at the grass with a wistful expression on her face, "shone like the sun. My daughter."

The Master choked on nothing, "What?" he demanded.

Donna shook her head, rolling back onto her back, staring into the endless blue of the morning sky, "No, no, no, not mine, Ella and Josh were mine, but they weren't real, in the computer," she murmered. She ran her hands through her hair, dislodging pieces of grass and dirt from it, "The Doctor's, the Doctor's, his daughter, because I'm my own person, my own, not together, but seperate, not my daughter, just my friend. She was my friend, my friend from Messaline. Oh, that rhymes, wait, no it doesn't." She began to cry, her hands coming up to cover her face, "Where are my friends?"

"I'm right here," he murmered, looking at her, his face twisting sadly as she rolled on her side and began to sob.

OOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO

At ten twetnty two Martha's phone began to ring, flashing Sarah Jane's name on it's surface.

At ten twenty four the Tardis materialized in Sarah Jane Smith's attic.

Sarah Jane wrapped her arm around her son, waiting with bated breath for the door to open, and with a creak it did, the Doctor, Jack, and Martha emerging from it with grim expressions on their faces.

"Sarah Jane," the Doctor mumbled, coming forward to give her a quick hug, before stepping back and looking at Luke in surprise. "You're tall," he told him, gesturing from the ground to the top of his head.

Luke blinked and laughed without sound, nodding his head, "Um, yeah," he agreed.

"You didn't used to be this tall," the Doctor said.

"I grew," Luke told him, smiling as he held out his hand to shake.

A grin grew on the corner of the Doctor's mouth, "Yeah," he dragged out, shaking Luke's hand, "I forgot you humans did that from time to time."

Sarah Jane cleared her throat, effectively silencing the room and upping the tension, "Doctor," she said quietly.

He looked down at her, his eyes looking incredibly old and sad in his young face, "Tell me what you saw."

"Harriet Jones came to us yesterday, on the street."

The Doctor nodded, seemingly unfazed.

"She said Donna Noble was in trouble."

The Doctor flinched but gestured for her to continue.

"Luke pointed out that they were both dead, to which she agreed."

The Doctor nodded, his eyes narrowing.

"Then she grabbed her head and almost fell over, Luke helped her stay upright."

The Doctor looked at Luke, nodding in approval, to which the boy smiled.

"She said she had to go, that he was calling her, that she would meet me at lunch time the next day at my house."

"And today is the day?" the Doctor asked.

Sarah Jane nodded.

The Doctor clapped his hands together, startling Sarah Jane, Luke, Martha, and Jack unnecessarily, "Finally," he cried, "we'll get some answers!"

**DISCLAIMER: Doctor Who ain't mine, Sarah Jane Adventures ain't mine, and I'm getting absolutely no monetary value from writing this. SO JUST BE COOL!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors Note: Okey Doke, same day as chapter five and six, k? And you all remember Ross Jenkins, right? Sontarans totally killed him in the Poison Sky, or the Sontaran Stratagem, can't remember which, but...yeah....**

**Hope you all like it, review if you want to make me incredibly happy! (Therefore more inclined to update quickly *Hint, Hint*)**

** OOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO**

At ten twelve in the morning Ross Jenkins woke up to find Donna Noble sitting on the floor of his bedroom, and to say he was shocked would have been a great understatement. He leapt from his bed, thanking god, a thousand times, that he had, his entire life, worn pajamas to bed. Once standing, Ross didn't know quite what to do, to run from the room would have been a bit of an overreaction, to merely lay back down would have lacked luster. So he approached the woman carefully, all too aware of her 'condition'. "Donna?" he cooed, in a gentle tone that he hoped wouldn't bother her.

She looked up at him strangely, her blue eyes so big in her thin face, "Ross, did you know the Doctor was going to ask you to come along?" she asked, uttering the single longest sane sentance he'd ever heard her say.

"Pardon?" he asked, not quite understanding the simple question.

"He liked you, you were clever and witty," she said, looking down at the hard wood floor again, shaking her head, "he was going to take you on the Tardis." She laughed, a harsh bark, that sounded almost cruel, "But then you died, didn't you Ross?" she asked bitterly. "Didn't I tell say you can't fight Sontarans? Didn't I, Ross? Were you deaf? Did you not hear me through the radio?"

Ross bit his lip, eyes looking sadly down at Donna before walking towards her slowly. Her eyes followed his like a caged animal, ready to lash out at a moments notice, until he was crouching down in front of her, not touching her, but close. "No, Donna," he soothed, "that was the Doctor," he told her.

She looked confused for a second, her brows furrowing before placing a hand on her chest, "I...I'm not the Doctor?" she asked, in a tiny voice that broke Ross's heart.

Ross sighed, rubbing a hand over his sleepy face before looking at her again, "No, Donna," he said. "Remember? You're Donna Noble."

"But, but, in my memories they call me Doctor," she mumbled, threading her fingers through her hair, tugging at the silky strands in frustration.

"It's alright," he whispered, reaching out to lower her hands before she pulled out a chunk of her hair, "look deeper, Donna," he said her name, she looked at him, "can you do that? For me?" he asked.

"I..." tears built up in her eyes, not yet falling, "But I was at the Fall of Arcadia! I destroyed Gallifrey! My People, my family, all my hopes and dreams!" she screamed, lashing out at him and hitting him in the chest, pushing him away from her. "I'm a monster! A monster!" she sobbed, scratching at her eyes and face.

"No!" Ross yelped, crawling on his knees back to her, grabbing her wrists, forcing her to stop mutilating herself. He shook her, his frustration and helplessness taking him over, "Crazy cow, what is wrong with you?!" he screamed. Ross instantly felt bed, felt terrible, as she began to sob and shake, looking terribly pitiful and beautiful, in a broken insane sort of way.

"Everythins wrong," she choked, her eyes dancing across the room, never landing on something for more then a few seconds, moving on, always roaving. "The world is wrong, we shouldn't be here, we shouldn't be here, we shouldn't be here," she shook her wrists, but he wouldn't let go. "We're cold, and we should be gone, but he's stolen us, we're not his, but he's trapped us. I'm wrong, not meant to exist, impossible, an impossible thing, we're all impossible things in this house. What is wrong with this house!"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, already knowing that it was too late, that he'd upset her too much, that she'd be screaming within moments.

"This house of the dead! Why does he trap us here! To be his pets, are we his pets?! All of us under one roof, a cemetery! We haunt this world, because he commands it, because we couldn't resist! Because we were _weak_! _Cowards_ who coudln't face their end!" She trembled in his grasp, choking on her words as they rushed out of her mouth, one after another, after another, after another.

"Shh," he pleaded, eyeing the open door desperately, hoping that no one would come and tell _him_ how he had triggered Donna. _He_ didn't like it when you upset Donna.

She fell agaisnt him, and he enveloped her in a hug, rubbing her back comfortingly, "It's all right, don't cry, don't," he begged her.

Donna huffed, an amused squeak breaking through her tears, "Nothing's alright, Ross, nothing in the world," he felt her shake her head against his shoulder, "the world is wrong."

OOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO

At twelve o'clock exactly the Master was punched in the face in Sarah Jane Smith's living room. Without much hassle he fell to the floor, cradling his bleeding nose while screaming obscenities at Jack, who wore a smug grin on his shocked face.

Harriet rushed to stand in front of the Master, glaring at Jack, then the Doctor, and then Sarah Jane, her eyebrow rose towards her hairline, "There are decidedly more people in the room then I thought there would be," she said, her quizzical tone directed at Sarah Jane.

"The Doctor was who you wanted, I knew that without you having to tell me," Sarah Jane said, her chin rising in defense.

Harriet sighed, shifting on one foot to look over her shoulder at the Master, "You alright, Sax?" she asked, inspecting his bleeding nose from afar.

"Oh, yes," the Master crooned emphatically, "never better, just peachy!"

The Doctor stepped forward, shocked and, though he would never admit it, a bit frightened now that the dead people he knew were walking around, were walking around in front of him! He asked the first thing that came to his head, "Sax?!" he squeaked.

The Master actually looked affronted as he climbed to his feet, "It's better then 'Doctor'?" he said petulently, "At least it's a real name!"

"No, it's not! It's a musical instrument!" the Doctor said, pointing at the Master indignantly.

"Be quiet!" Harriet screamed, looking at the two Time Lords like they were idiots, both the Master and the Doctor pouted, looking like big ten year olds, until Harriet glared at them like death and they both looked contrite. She looked pointedly at the Doctors still raised hand, with a cough he lowered it.

After a moment of silence, the Doctor looked expectantly at Harriet, actually they all did, she stared blankly back at them. Martha cleared her throat, gesturing at her, "Aren't you going to tell us who you are?" she asked nervously.

Harriet looked down at her, her eyes doing a once over, evaluating Martha, making Martha feel incredibly uncomfortabe, "You know who I am, Martha Jones," Harriet said.

The Doctor balked at her, seemingly more shocked by her not flashing some sort of ID at them then at the appearence of the Master. She shrugged.

"Okay," Jack said, glaring daggers at the Master, but turning his gaze to Harriet, "What the hell is going on?" he asked, voicing the question that everyone, _literally_ everone, wanted to ask.

Harriet swallowed, "Two years ago I was shot by the Daleks after opening the subwave network," everyone in the room nodded, causing the Master to roll his eyes with a sigh, "two nights later I woke up on a slab in the morgue, my injuries healed, my body good as new, and I was given a choice, to live," she swallowed again, "or to die."

"Who? Who was giving you this choice?" the Doctor asked, stepping forward to stand in front of Harriet.

She looked straight into his eyes, shaking her head with a shrug, "He never speaks his name, never," she told them.

"Well, you must call him something, you don't just go about calling him _he_, do you?" Jack asked.

Harriet looked sheepish, her eyes going to the floor, "There were people there before me, they called him Az, but we can't call him that to his face."

"What?" the Doctor asked, "Why?"

"It's short of Azrael, Angel of Death," the Master said from behind Harriet, "but he's not death, he's life, he brings life, he'll hurt you if you call him that to his face."

Harriet snorted, the most unlady like thing they'd ever seen her do, "He'll hurt you for anything nowadays."

The Master trmebled slightly, "Remember the time with Donna," the Doctors ears piqued at the mention of her name, "when she tried to reach her grandfather, what he did with his belt?" he asked Harriet.

Harriet shuddered, "How coud I not? She still has the scars."

"What?" the Doctor said, his voice low and serious, forcing Harriet and the Master out of their mini conversation. "Scars? Belt?"

Jack grimaced, understanding coming quickly to him, he reached his hand out to grab the Doctors arm, warning him not to continue. The Doctor shook him off impatiently, "What did he do with his belt?" he asked, uncomprehending.

The Master looked at the Doctor, pity entering his gaze, "He beat her, Doctor, with his belt. She has the scars on her back, she was bleeding for days, but he still came to her room every night," he said in disgust.

The Doctor took a step back, his eyes widening, his mouth opening, gaping like a terribly sad fish.

"Remember when she first started to glitch?" the Master said, turning back to Harriet, cruelly taunting the Doctor now.

Harriet shook her head, not wanting to play along with the Masters game, "Stop it, Sax," she mumbled.

"When the blocks around her Time Lord mind started to degrade? When she started to dream of the Time War, when she would wake up screaming and find herself next to _him_." He turned to the Doctor, his lip curling upwards in a sneer, "When she lost her mind, when she would scream and scream for the Doctor, because she knew that he would save her."

The Doctor's mouth closed, his eyes hardening, "Be quiet," he ordered.

Te Master ignored him, stepping in close to breath his harsh words into the Doctors face, "When she began to lose herself, to forget her name and where she was, when she would call out for Rose or Martha or Jack to come and tell her where she parked the Tardis. When she'd look at me and scream my name, run to me, and ask me how I did at the Academy, when I was going home to see my family."

Jack stepped forward, pushing the Master away from the Doctor, but the damage had already been done. The Doctors shoulders hunched minutely, his head bowing as he stared at the Master. "How are you here?" he asked, "I saw you die, I burned you're body."

The Master raised his arms, open palms up, "I don't know, Doctor," he hissed the last word, "Up to you to find out," he whispered.

**DISCLAIMER: Don't sue me! I don't own it!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors Note: I know I'm just being cruel now, and I apologize in advance...**

At twelve, at the exact time the Master was being punched in the nose, He, whose real name might or might not have been Azreal, walked out the doors of his house, into the bright sunshine. His eyes found Donna's shock of red hair easily, he walked to the edge of the pool, looking down at her fully clothed figure, standing in the shallow end, the water reaching her ribs. Her fingers played out over the cool water, shifting it in abstract ways, playing with the suns reflections, a dreamy smile on her face. "Donna?" he called, walking around the perimeter of the pool, looking down at her, frowning slightly. He crouched down, pulling off his shoes and socks, "You've ruined your dress."

She laughed, a trilling sound escaping her nose and mouth, "no," she shook her head, "it's only wet. Water doesn't hurt."

He studied her, pale skin that should be burning in the sunshine still tranclusent, bruises up her bare arms and wrists, and her face, faded bruises but fresh scratches around her eyes. He jumped into the pool, fully clothed just like her, swiming over to her lazily, splashing her as he came close. She squeeled, gliding away from him like a figment of his imagination, the knee length skirt of her dark blue dress trailing after her, billowing about her legs weightlessly. He smiled, treading water as she swam around him, her long legs carrying her easily.

He reached out his hand, grabbing her calf loosely, groaning happily as her slick wet skin slide under his fingers, his hand stayed still as she continued to swim forward, and then it was her ankle in his grasp, and then her foot. Then she was gone, swimming around him again, smiling at him, her blue eyes bright in the sun. He swam after her, delighting in the sound of her surprised gasp when he caught her around the middle, dragging them both under the surface. She turned in his underwater embrace, smiling at him, her eyes open, shaking her head in a way that made him think she was laughing at him, then she kicked the bottom of the pool, propelling them both back to the surface.

They broke through, both instantly taking another breath, and she pushed herself off his chest, swimming away from him, teasing him. And again he chased her, not able to resist.

Donna turned at the last moment, grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him under with her, he could see the bottom of the pool behind her head as they drifted down. Her long hair swirled around thier heads like seaweed, red amidst the blue, and she smiled at him, bubbles escaping from her nose, floating past his face on their way to the surface. He raised his hands to cradle her face, his thumbs rubbing across her cheekbones, his lips coming to claim hers gently.

OOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO

The Master poked at his nose experimentally, collapsing down on Sarah Jane's sofa, rolling his eyes as he tried to block out the Doctor and his sniveling companions voices. Martha Jones, high and squeaky, Jack Harkness, sultry and arrogant, Sarah Jane, wiser then the other two, but still far too subordinate for him to take her seriously. And then the Doctor, self assured, even now, though he knew nothing about the situation, he was talking as if he knew it all, pompous was the word for it. And, of course, his hapless companions were licking it up.

Had Donna been like this? Helpless and lost without the Doctor to lead her by the hand? The Master doubted it, she'd rather be mauled by a bear then admit she needed help, or, at least, she would have, before...

He shook his head, tapping his fingers on the coffee table, tapping to the beat of the sound of drums, not noticing the conversation still as the haunting _ba ba ba dum_ echoed around the small room. His eyes narrowed in concentration, remembering Donna, his thoughts lingering on her, his lip pouting slightly. Donna...Donna was like him, almost. But she had been human once, vulnerable and innocent in their doe eyed idiotic way, and then her pure little primate mind had been corrupted by the knowledge of a Time Lord. But not only by the genius of a Time Lord, but by the madness coiled deep within, hidden in the depths of every Time Lord's mind. But it wasn't just the knowledge that drove her mad, no, when the blocks the Doctor made had degraded, it was the Doctor's memories, his life laid bare before her curious eyes, all the hate and all the rage that he'd kept at bay, that had proved too much for her fragile unevolved brain.

And that made the Master...angry. And it made the drums...angry.

"Hmmm," the Master breathed, realizing how much the drums liked Donna. How much they...empathised with her, cared for her, the Master shook his head, his mouth opening in surprise. Did he, the Master, care for Donna at all, was it all the drums, manipulating him? Why did they like her so much?

"Will you stop it!" Jack snapped, stepping in front of the Masters sitting form, glaring at his tapping fingers in disgust.

"I'm sorry," the Master said, the polite words having been carved into his psyche by Donna.

"What?" Jack asked, stepping back in surprise, his voice wavering uncertainly, not knowing quite to react to the Masters politeness.

The Master stood, unconcerned with the wide eyes following his form as he rubbed his chin, his mind spinning away from the drums. Dancing about the silent room, his mind spinning, making him forget exactly where he was, and in whose company he was in. He turned excited eyes towards Harriet, who, sneaky woman that she was, had somehow exited the room without anyone noticing and then returned with a steaming cup of tea in her hands. "Harry!" he yelled happily.

She frowned as she sat down on the arm rest of a chair, "Don't call me that," she said irritably.

"Donna calls you that!" he said, getting distracted.

Harriet smiled a melancholy smile, "Donna doesn't even know where she is half the time," she muttered, ignoring the hurt look in the Doctors eyes. "And," she said, straightening her spine, her eyebrows raising in jest, "I like her better then you."

"Better then moi?" he asked, resting his hand on his chest, mock hurt playing in his voice.

"I'd prefer a goat's company to yours, you zombie," she retorted.

Sarah Jane, the Doctor, Jack, Martha, and Luke watched their back and forth like watching a tennis match, their heads swishing from side to side.

"You're just as much a zombie as me, harridan,"

Her lip sneered upwards, "Oh, just learn that word yesterday? Reading the dictionary with Donna again?"

"Better then collecting souls with you," he called good naturedly.

"At least I have a purpose, why'd he even bring you back? All you do is play with Donna."

"I was here long before Donna."

"Oh, what did you do before her? Play with yourself?" she asked, smiling at her double entendre.

Jack swallowed down a laugh, not wanting to interupt this weird scene before him.

"You just wished I'd played with you," he bobbed his head, smirking.

"I'd rather play with Donna," she said, covering her smile with her tea cup.

Jack choked, the Doctor's eyes got somehow wider, and Martha just looked sheepish.

"What?" the Doctor cried, his voice high pitched, his eyes skipping from Harriet to the Master.

"Nothing," the Master assured him, waving his hand like he was placating a child. "Okay, what's the plan?" he asked, clapping his hands together expectantly.

"Uh," the Doctor stuttered, looking at everyone in the room like they had suddenly and irrevocably lost their minds, leaving him the only sane one. "We were just going to go, um, follow you back to wherever... and talk to this 'him' person."

"Oh," the Master said, disappointment practically dripping from his voice, "That's it?"

"Yeah," the Doctor said, nodding.

"We should hurry," Harriet said, putting down her pilfered tea and standing up, "before he askes Donna to marry him."

The Master whirled around, the playfullness in his face gone in an instant, turning into the centuries old alien capable of destroying the world right before their eyes, "Excuse me?" he asked.

Harriet took a step back, "He...he has a ring, he wants to marry her."

The Master looked uncomprehending, "Marry her?" he echoed.

"You sound jealous," the Doctor said, his hand rising to gesture at the Master in surprise, "you're jealous."

"Shut it!" the Master screamed, rounding on the Doctor and striking him across the face.

Jack tackled the Master to the floor, his fists blurring as he pummled the Master relentlessly, becoming more enraged as the Master's laughter reached his ears. Martha and Luke dragged Jack off of the Master, begging him to settle down.

OOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO

Donna collapsed onto the ground, not caring one bit that she had sprawled inelegantly over the grass, her wet hair getting bits of dirt and grass stuck in it. He sat down next to her, his green eyes dancing as she arched her back, stretching her arms and legs like a cat in the sunshine. He laid down, resting his head on her stomach, feeling her silent laughter as she threaded her long fingers through his sopping, limp hair. She said something to him, in a language he didn't know, he ignored it, merely enjoying the sound of her voice.

A cloud drifted across the sun, stealing the golden hues of the day away for a moment, before coming back full force, making him squint up into the sky.

Donna said something again, this time tugging gently on his hair. He rolled over, climbing half on top of her, leaning his elbows on either side of her head as he looked down at her. "Donna?" he asked, looking at her, frowning ever so slightly. She raised her hand, trailing her finger tips over his features, she smiled at him, lazy and slow, like she had a million years to just study his face. A lone tear slipped out of the corner of her eye, disappearing into the hair on the side of her face a moment later.

He wiped the tear track away, "Donna?" he asked, more urgently this time. She spoke in the strange musical language again, the language that reminded him of wispy circles and orange skies, and he realized that she'd been repeating the same words in this language. She whimpered, her breath hitching in and out of her throat as tears slipped out of her eyes, and again she repeated herself, but he didn't understand. She shook against him, convulsing violently as she dug her fingers into his shirt, _screaming_ into his ear.

And then...

Then she was silent. Her eyes closed. Her fists loosening themselves from his shirt and falling limply to her sides.

He climbed to his knees, grabbing her shoulders and dragging her up into a sitting position with him, shaking her violently, "Donna? Donna!" he screamed.

Her head lolled to the side, wet red hair falling into her face, as blood started to leak out of her nose, dripping out like a faulty faucet, her pale face turning ashen.

**DISCLAIMER: If I break them can i have them? (No, but for rlz, not mine)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors Note: Hiya, this one is short, but just 'cause I have to get in there, ya know? Some creepiness, at least in my view, by HIM (Moldy, as I heard someone call him, lol). Thank you to all who reviewed, and to those who are reading but haven't reviewed, 'cause you matter too!**

Donna lay unconscious on a what looked like a metal table with a variety of buttons and switches on the side, a bright white light shining down on her, highlighting her unnatural palor and the bright red blood flowing from her nose. "Data core coruption, foreign data stream embedded in data stamp, data purge recomended," the simulated voice of the computer chirped happily.

_He_ clutched Donna's hand, "Recommendation under advisment," he muttered, "tangible damage assesment?" he demanded of the computer, looking up at one of data ports. His free hand coming up to swipe Donna's wet hair off her forehead, smoothing it down without looking.

"Fracture to thoracic wall, hairline fracture to right carpus structure, concussions pertaining to the spinal cord and brain-"

"No," he ground out, his fist smacking the hard metal table by Donna's head. "Pertaining to data core corruption, what is the tangible damage?"

"Silicen pathways degraded, hemorrhage along the fusible Sadrict wall," the computer paused, the bright white light above Donna radiating pink for a moment, "damage irreversible. Data stamp unstable, termination of experiment recomended."

"No!" he screamed at the computer.

The bright light above Donna turned off, leaving her lying on the metallic medical bed in the semi gloom. He grabbed Donna's chin, tilting her face towards him, sighing in frustration as he tried in vain to wipe away the blood from beneath her nose. "Oh, Donna," he muttered, wiping his bloody fingers on her dress before slipping them into his pockets, returning a moment later clutching a small box.

He leaned down to lean his forhead against hers, his nostrils filling with the coppery smell of blood almost immediately. He looked down at her closed eyes, the curl of her ginger lahses against her pale cheeks making him smile sadly, "This was going to be far more romantic," he told her still form quietly.

"You'd have worn green, to match your eyes," he muttered, carasing her temple lovingly.

"Would've worn stiletto heels, just to tease me, you're always teasing," he smirked, kissing her unresponsive lips before pulling back again.

"I'd have brought you to the most exclusive place in town, we'd have turned heads, the pair of us, hand in hand, would order champagne and sushi, then after you'd refused to eat the sushi I would have taken you for fish and chips." He leaned his face down closer again, whispering against her slightly parted lips, "Would have gotten down on one knee, Donna, right there in the fish and chips place, and taken this out of my pocket." He opened the small blue box in his hand with a flick of his wrist, not once taking his eyes off Donna's face, ignoring the fact that she was unconscious. "Isn't it perfect for you, Donna?" he asked, his green eyes never wavering, "Beautiful, isn't it? Just like you," he said as he straightened his back, exiting her personal space, he took the ring out of the box with his thumb and forefinger.

He grabbed Donna's limp left hand, rubbing the smooth skin on the back of her hand slowly, looking down at her, smiling wistfully. He slipped the ring on her finger, "You'd say yes Donna, I know you would, and now you don't have too."

He lifted her off the table, his arms cradling her to his chest, heading towards the door, "We don't have long Donna, not long, but you're my fiance now, and you'll be my wife soon enough."

**DISCLAIMER: I suppose they're not mine, but is it alright if I play with them?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors Note: this chapters short, but only 'cause the next one is going to be soooo loooonnnngggg.**

"And that goes double for your mother!" the Master yelled out his open car window, taking both his hands off the steering wheel to gesture rudely at the car next to them.

Harriet rolled her eyes in the front passenger seat, "Keep your hands on the wheel!" she screeched.

"Don't tell me how to drive!" the Master yelled back at her, grabbing the steering wheel and swerving around an annoying pedestrian running across the road.

Martha, the Doctor, and Jack (without Sarah Jane and Luke, both of whom having had to run off to rescue Clyde from something or other) looked at each other in the back seat, each confused and kind of terrified at this odd and unexpected turn of events. "Watch out!" the Doctor screamed, leaning forward to point out the windshield.

The Master swerved, while at the same time turning in his seat to glare at the Doctor, "I have eyes! I can see that someone is there! Don't need you nagging me!"

"Where are we going?" Martha asked from her spot in between Jack and the Doctor in the back seat.

Harriet leaned forward to turn the stereo on, "Where do you think we're going?" she sneered.

The Doctor looked at Harriet, his jaw falling open, "Wha-"

"I love this song!" the Master cried, leaning forward, smacking Harriet's hand away gently to turn the music up. An upbeat, annoying song with a strong drum beat reverberated in the car. Harriet and the Master both started moving in time with the drum beats, their heads bobbing from side to side, each with an arm dangling out their windows. The Master sang all the words, Harriet sang the chorus.

The Doctor turned wide eyes to Martha and Jack, his mouth forming a big confused 'O'. Jack leaned over Martha, "Why didn't we just take the TARDIS to this '_him'_ person?"

"Because the great Doctor didn't trust me in his handy-dandy time machine!" the Master screamed to the back seat, pausing in his singing. The Master turned his head to look at the Doctor with a sneer, "Did you?"

"Well-" the Doctor began before being thrown into Martha's side as the car turned a sharp corner.

"You lot better be wearing your seat belts!" Harriet yelled over the music.

"Who gives a toss if they're wearing their seatbelts or not?" the Master snorted.

"I'm sure they probably do," Harriet said back, holding onto the edge of her seat as they went over a pot hole, throwing everyone up in their seat. "Mr. Immortal probably doesn't though, I must admit."

Jack's eyes widened, he turned to look at Martha, mouthing 'Mr. Immortal' with a raised eye brow.

Martha sniggered.

The Doctor ran his hand through his hair.

OOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO

Donna opened her eyes, her bright blue eyes dull and listless, "They're coming now," she sat up in their bed, her red hair cascading off her shoulders easily, "coming for you." She wiped at the dried blood under her nose before shaking her head.

He approached the bed, crossing his arms, starting in surprise as she stood up.

"An Oncoming Storm, the Destroyer of Worlds," she said, shedding her soaking dress, letting it fall to the floor by her feet as she undid the zip. She walked to her dresser, turning her head to look at him, "But he's drifting now, going from place to place, he doesn't care, did he ever care?"

She pulled out a pair of jeans, slipping into them easily, "Did he miss me? Us? Any of us?" She walked towards the closet, shaking off his hand as he tried to grab her, "He wants to save us, but he wants to save everyone, are we no different then strangers? More important?" She laughed, a terrible, cruel, cold laugh.

"I loved him more then life itself, he was my brother, my mind, we were one, two made into one, but that wasn't him that was the other him, the other him and I were one. And the three of us were the same, we were the three-fold man." She pulled a white v-neck shirt over her head, "He's coming, but he's not, because he doesn't ever come, the wind merely took him here, he didn't come here." She pulled on a dark purple sweater, turned to him, grabbed his hand, and led him out of their room.

**DISCLAIMER: Wha? There not mine? But I can play with them anyway? huh, okay, if you say so....**


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors Note: As promised a LOOONG chapter here (at least by my standards *shrugs*), and a whole lot of answers too! If it doens't make sense, review with your questions and i'll respond with the answers, k?**

Donna Noble looked terrible.

That was the extent of Jack's thoughts when he stepped out of the car, when he emerged into the bright sunshine of a long paved driveway in front of an impressive and large house. Donna was pale, deathly pale, even her lips, which had been a delicious shade of pink when she'd defeated the Daleks on the Crucible, were now a muted shade of skin tone. The only color anywhere on her came from her still bright red hair, shining beautifuly in the sunlight, the massive bruises all across her exposed skin, and vast amounts of dried blood under her nose. Faded blue and green and yellow bruises were on her face, practically fresh purple bruises shone on her neck, and when she shifted, the sleeves of her sweater riding up on her wrists, Jack could see ugly black bruises on her arms.

She looked at him impassively, standing behind a tall, equally pale man, in front of the impressive house. Jack reached out to latch onto the Doctor's arm, even before he looked at the Doctor's face.

"Doctor," the pale man said, "allow me to introduce myself, my name is Paul."

Jack looked at the Doctor's face from the corner of his eye, he swallowed as he saw the Doctor's rage, the power of it nearly making Jack step back. Gone was the man who merely wanted to 'talk' to this man, this man who brought back the dead, here now was the Oncoming Storm, and Jack was truly afraid.

"I was told you were called Azrael," the Doctor said, his tone icy, as he looked over the man's shoulder, at Donna, waiting for recognition.

He laughed, Paul laughed, Azrael laughed, the one man with so many different names laughed, a careless laugh, beneath it's surface though, lay boiling fire, untempered and raw, it shone through any carefree mask he tried to hide behind. "Different times, different names, Donna and I just picked Paul a few days ago, didn't we?" he asked, snaking his hand behind him to snag Donna's wrist and drag her to his side.

Donna stumbled forward, her battered body nearly falling to the ground, and Jack flinched as he felt the Doctor's arm tense under his hand.

"Doctor," Donna said, her hushed voice carrying through the air faintly, like a half remembered ghost drifting on it's way. Her blue eyes looked at the Doctor happily, her lips spreading into a brilliant smile, "Oh, I knew you'd come eventually, Doctor," she said, her voice sounding relieved.

The man, Paul, looked down at her, his lips pulling downwards in distaste.

"I wished and wished and wished, and never stopped, my brother, you wouldn't abandon me, never, because you love me!" she cried, nearly crying in her joy. She hopped up and down excitedly on the balls of her feet, her red hair bouncing around her head, "And I love you, I never told you, but I love you, like a brother! My brother! My brother, wanted to stay with your forever, would have too, would never have chosen this, but what else was I supposed to do? Die?" she laughed an unhinged laugh, "No, of course not, so I'm here with Paul, but I wanted you, did you know that, did you-"

It was brutal and fast, if Jack had blinked he would have missed it, Paul's fist shooting out and hitting Donna in the face, pulling back and hitting again. She cried out, slumping to the ground, one hand coming up to cradle her bleeding nose and mouth, her other arm still held up, _his_ hand still wrapped around her wrist, like she was some sort of broken puppet.

Three seperate things happened at once then. Martha Jones and Harriet Jones leapt forward intending to care for Donna. The Master, Jack Harkness, and the Doctor leapt forward to give this _Paul_ great bodily harm. Paul reached into his coat, grabbed a device, brought it out and pressed a small green button. A shimmering green bubble appeared around Donna and Paul, and, without time to fully stop, Martha, Harriet, Jack, the Master, and the Doctor, slammed into it. It might have been comical had it done been for the great pain the bubble inflicted before repelling them away. It might have been comical if they couldn't still hear Donna's pitiful cries through her bleeding mouth and quivering hand. It might have been comical if it weren't so incredibly terrible.

He laughed again, wiggling the palm sized device up at them tauntingly, "It's just so lucky I have this, isn't it?"

The Master growled, punching the forcefield, bubble...thing, with his fist, hissing at the pain. "You bastard!" he screamed, scowling.

"Oh, your true feelings arise, here I thought we were friends!" Paul said, an actual hurt tone creeping into his voice.

The Master stopped, looking at the man calmly, a little sadly, "We were," he said quietly.

"What changed then?" he demanded, staring hard into the Master's eyes.

The Master inclined his head towards Donna, sobbing on the ground, "Donna," he said simply.

Paul looked from the Master to Donna, and back again, he let go of her wrist, she drew it to her face with her other hand. "You..." he paused swallowing, "and Donna?" he asked.

"No," the Master began.

"You and Donna!" he screamed, reaching down to grab a fistfull of Donna's hair, to pull her up into a standing position, he shook her violently, ignoring her screams. The device in his hand dropped to the ground with a clatter as he used both his fists to beat her, as he ranted at her, as he _screamed_ at her.

Martha Jones turned away, the beating to savage for her to bear. Harriet Jones watched, cataloging each blow, to know how to take care of Donna after. Jack seethed silently, watching as the innocent woman was beaten. The Doctor stood stock still, watching, but unable to interfere through the green bubble. "Stop!" the Master yelled, running into the barrier, hammering it with his hands, with his feet, with his body. "NO! Stop it! You bastard, stop!"

Donna fell to the ground, bleeding and crying, her blue eyes uncomprehending, "Gallifrey," she whispered, her breath hitching.

Paul raised his foot, "You'll kill her!" Harriet screamed. Paul paused, his foot hanging in the air above Donna's ribs.

"You'll kill her! She can't be your wife if she's dead! She can't wear your ring if she's in a hole in the ground!" Harriet yelled, stepping closer to the bubble. Her hands raised in front of her, hovering centimeters from the green shimmering wall. "Please," she begged, not for herself, but for Donna, "she's learned her lesson now. Look at her, she'll never leave you!"

Paul looked down, lowering his foot, Donna lay practically comatose on the ground, pitiful whimpers escaping her lips. "Oh, Donna," he whispered, kneeling down, reaching his hand out to rub his thumb over her cheek bone.

"What are you?" the Doctor's cold voice said.

Paul looked up, "No one, a man."

"You're not a man," the Doctor scoffed. "See," he continued, "because that little device there, that's from the sixty second century. You were sent back in time, probably in a ship, but it wasn't intentional, and you were alone, been alone for hundreds of years. But that's not even important, is it?" the Doctor started to circle the bubble, his eyes boring into Paul from all sides. "You don't have a heart, not a real one, neither does Harriet, or the Master, or Sax rather, whatever he's calling himself these days. I'd bet the whole of time and space that Donna doesn't have one either, yet there she is, bleeding real blood, it's all rather confusing."

Paul stood up, picking the device up from the ground, glaring at the Doctor.

The Doctor reached into his pocket, his sonic screwdriver emerging a second later, clasped in between his thumb and forefinger, "I don't need this, however useful it is, to tell me you're a machine, a machine in your time, and a machine in this one."

Everyone looked startled at that revelation.

"But you're not, are you?" the Doctor asked. "Some sort of biological machine, with blood, and lungs, and a brain, but your brain is a computer, it's genius, brilliant really, and hard to explain." He pointed at the Master, "He's fully artificial too, isn't he? Had to build a new body, because the old one burned." he spun on his heel to look at Harriet, "Harriet, she was easy, a simple infusion of tralibers, to convert her organic materiel into that of a machine."

He turned to look down at Donna, bleeding on the ground, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow, "And Donna, brilliant Donna," his eyes flickered up towards Paul, his brown eyes hard. "Died of a drug overdose, and that was your doing as well."

Harriet gasped almost inaudibly.

"She probably was using drugs," the Doctor continued, "but she's not foolish. You saw her, you killed her, made it look like she did it to herself, she probably thinks it was her own fault too, why did you do it?"

Paul laughed, his green eyes crinkling in amusement, "You, Doctor, are far smarter then I gave you credit for."

"Why?" The Dcotor demanded.

"Because I saw what she could be!" Paul roared, his laughter gone. "What she was! Amazing, and unique, singular, nothing else like her!"

"Why didn't you just leave her be, why kill her?"

"So I could save her!" Paul screamed, pointing at the Doctor accusatorily, "She was a drug riddled temp when I found her, if I hadn't done what I had did she wouldn't be here now, with all of time and space at her beck and call, without the knowledge of the universe! You're the one who trapped her! Who took a perfectly good woman and turned her into an _addict_! You destroyed her life, not me!"

The Doctor was silent.

Paul pointed at Harriet, "Another perfectly good woman, an honorable woman, a woman only trying to protect her planet, and you striped her of her power! You played agism and sexism against her, the worst natures of her own kind against her! And she died because of it, died because of you, died to find you, so you could save her world!"

Jack stepped in between the Doctor and Paul, "that's enough, that's a bunch of bull, you have no right-"

He pointed at himself, in a manner eerily similar to Donna, "I don't have the right!" he screamed incredulously. "He's the one who comes into these people's lives, who comes and _destroys_ them, then goes on his merry way! He's the monster, the one who kills you, the one who robs you of your brilliance! The one who dumps you in your garden when he's through with you!"

The Doctor slouched, his hands going into his pockets as he looked sourly at Paul.

"And now look!" Paul cried, "He's an angsty puppy! Let's all feel bad for the poor Doctor!"

The Master rolled his eyes, "I've enough of this," he said tonelessly. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his laser screwdriver.

Paul laughed at him, "A sonic screwdriver isn't going to anything."

"Good thing it's not sonic," the Master said snidely before pointing it at the bubble, pressing a button, grinning as the annoying sound of his screwdriver reached his ears.

**DISCLAIMER: not mine, never was, never will be, and that makes me sad :(**


	12. Chapter 12

**AUTHORS NOTE: Hola! Thank you to MakeLoveNotSense for their not so subtle hint that I should go ahead and write another chapter already!**

The green bubble faded as Paul started to convulse, the laser screwdriver in the Master's hand unwavering.

"Ohhh," the Doctor crooned appreciatively, "photogenic reliable technology! Tied to his motor functions, that's brilliant, terrible in this sort of situation though." He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, watching with cold eyes as Paul started to cough blood and fell to the ground near Donna's own fallen form, the green bubble surrounding them a mere glimmer.

"This is the last time!" the Master screamed loudly, stepping closer to the diminishing bubble, his empty hand clenching unconciously. "The last time I leave Donna with you, or hear her screaming, or see new bruises on her face!" The green bubble disappeared, the Master walked closer to Paul. "You'll never touch her again, you'll never force yourself on her, or trick her muddled mind into bending to your will!"

The Master stood above Paul now, his face contorted with rage, he kicked Paul in the ribs, smiling only slightly at the yelp of pain he extracted. The Master kicked him again, and again, still pointing the laser screwdriver at Paul.

"Master!" he heard someone call, but he paid them no mind, he didn't care.

"You bastard! She'll never again come to me bleeding in the middle of the night, never beg me to end her suffering ever again, she'll still be insane but that hardly matters, because I'll take care of her! She was always mine to take care of, and because of you I've been doing a terrible job so far!" The Master stomped on Paul's face, finally letting the laser screwdrivers point fall away, he let it slip through his fingers as he used more physical means to beat Paul. "I'm going to kill you, my old friend, kill you and take Donna away from here."

"Master!" someone was tugging on his arm now, he batted them away without looking, without caring.

And then he felt it, in his mind, a burning, a pain so great and so heartbreaking that he stumbled to his knees, it was Donna, his link with Donna. He turned his head to look at her, her blue eyes turned a dark, bottomless black, her mouth open in a silent and terrible scream. "No," he muttered, crawling on his knees to her side, picking up her limp hand with his own, "don't go there, Donna."

"What's happening?" Martha screeched, running to kneel on the other side of Donna, to check her pulse.

The Master swatted her hand away absently, "Stupid cow, we don't work that way," he admonished quietly, leaning over Donna, his face hovering inches from Donna's.

"She's crashed," Harriet whispered desperately, looking down at them, tears collecting in her eyes.

"Don't say that!" the Master said urgently, "Don't say that, she'll be fine, everything is fine," he swiped Donna's hair out of her eyes.

"What do you mean crashed?" the Doctor demanded, his hand grabbing Harriet's upper arm reassuringly.

Harriet looked up at him, anger flaring in her eyes, "How do you think I mean? You're so thick!" she screamed, wrenching her arm free from his grasp, pushing him away from her.

Donna sat up suddenly, surprising Martha, her sightless eyes turning to look down the empty driveway, she said something, too quiet for anyone to hear, the only evidence of her words the moving of her lips. The Master's hand came up to cradle the back of her head, his fingers sliding through her hair, "It's alright, Donna, just step away from the center, don't look in the dark. Just let it go!" he urged forcibly.

"Let what go?!" the Doctor screamed, his arms shooting out desperatly.

"The power!" the Master yelled, his head jerking up to look at the Doctor, a crippling rage barely held in check as he gazed at him.

The Doctor flinched under those hurtful eyes, but he didn't back down, "What power?" he asked.

"Your power," the Master looked back at Donna, his breath coming out harshly, "our power, power of Gallifrey, raw and unabated, she can't control it, it consumes her."

"That doesn't make any sense!" the Doctor said with a shake of his head, his eyes scrunched in confusion, "None of this makes sense!"

"God damn it, Sax, save her!" Harriet screamed, pushing Martha away so she could be near Donna and the Master, so she could crouch next to them, hold them both.

"I can't!"

The Doctor started to pace in a small circle, tugging at his hair, talking mostly to himself, "Harriet jones and Donna Noble, their dead bodies transformed into organic machines, their conciousness still intact, they're the same people, but how did Donna regain the Time Lord essence I erased?" he turned on his heel. "Of course! Recalibrated memories! The dead flesh held an imprint of the Time Lord mind, just like any of her other memories! But she still can't take it, it burns her."

Martha and Jack crossed their arms, their eyes drifting between the muttering Doctor and the trio on the ground. The Master begging Donna to come back to him, Harriet begging the Master to save Donna, and Donna's mouth moving without sound.

"Rebuilt a body for the Master, organic machine, a Time Lord machine instead of human, that must have been difficult, incredibly difficult," the Doctor muttered.

Paul, on the ground and mostly forgotten, gagged on his own blood, coughing as he rolled over onto his side.

"Come to me girl," Donna's voice begged, her voice returning to her, soft and slow.

Everyone looked at her in confusion, except the Master, who grinned sadly, "My brilliant Donna," he murmered, leaning forward to kiss the top of her head as the whirling sound of ancient engines reached their ears. As a blue box, formed around the four people on the ground, appearing around them out of the dust, swirling around them like wind.

The Doctor ran forward, his hands reached out to stop them, "No! Stop!"

The Tardis was now fully formed, Donna, Harriet, the Master, and Paul, all inside it, Jack, Martha, and the Doctor outside it.

And Jack Harkness could swear he heard the Master laughing through the door's as it dematerialized, whisking away through time in space, leaving the Doctor behind.

**DISCLAIMER: If it were mine i'd pay others to write this for me..**.


	13. Chapter 13

**AUTHORS NOTE: MakeLoveNotSense, thank you for dragging this out of me, it's much appreciated!**

"She sings, she sings in the stars, among them, one of them, but seperate, she's so lonely," Donna clambered to her feet, leaving the Master and Harriet kneeling on the ground. She leaned over the controls to pet the time rotor gently, she smiled, "I sing, I sing in humanity, one of them, but seperate, we are the same, a woman and a machine, the same," she whispered.

Harriet stood up, hands on her hips, "Donna, what have you done?" she asked.

The Master laughed at her, "Something amazing! Obviously!" he cried, jumping up to look at the various screens and twist the assorted dials on the controls.

"Stop it!" Donna screamed, pushing him away from the controls, forcing him back viciously. "She doesn't like you, don't touch her, she's already taken care of us, we're not on Earth anymore, so don't touch!"

"She doesn't like me?" the Master asked with a pout.

Harriet, honest to god, stomped her foot while huffing impatiently, "God damn it! You're like children!"

Donna looked down at herself in confusion, then glanced at the Master, "Child, a person between birth and full growth; a boy or girl," she rushed towards Harriet, grabbing her shoulders, shaking her almost hystericaly, "but we're fully grown, a man and a woman, look, use your eyes!"

Harriet grimaced as Donna's fingers dug into her shoulders, but she smiled and nodded, "Yes, Donna, I see that, I see," she said soothingly, her voice adopting the soft quality usually reserved for wounded animals or small frightened children. Harriet brought one hand up and swept Donna's hair off her face, tucking the ginger tresses behind her ear, "Can you tell me where we're going? Where's the Tardis going?"

Donna smiled, flew away from Harriet, turning on her toe like a dancer as she picked up the mallet from it's hook and hit a stuck lever down. The Master came to stand beside Harriet, smiling a tiny smile, "Into the unknown," he whsipered melodramatically, "into the wild, all the universe is our oyster, Harriet Jones." She looked up at him, the thought of an entire universe at her beck and call playing in her mind, and she smiled.

"BLEH!" Donna cried, her back to Harriet and the Master.

The Master approached her, resting his hand on her back, "Donna, what's wrong?"

She turned around, a lollipop in her mouth, she popped the pop out of her mouth, gesturing the hand with the pop and the other hand with the mallet wildly, "I hate sour green apple!"

The Master laughed, sheer joy on his face as he leaned down and hugged. "Oi! Hands!" Donna cried, laughing as she popped the candy back into her mouth.

He picked her up, spinning her around the console room happily, showing an unprecedented amount of tactile affection.

"Oh, look at the happy couple," a voice groaned throatily from the floor. Three different pairs of eyes riveted on Paul. Paul, bleeding and beaten on the grating of the Tardis, smiling wistfully at Donna and the Master, "Really should have seen it, don't you think?" he asked, turning his head to look at Harriet. "Obvious really, my best friend and my woman, always together, and I never thought anything of it."

The Master pushed Donna behind him, glaring down at Paul, who merely laughed. "Oh, the wrath of a Time Lord," he called, waving his hands about like a circus master, "let's see it then, Sax, your true nature."

"I should kill you," the Master said quietly.

"Yes," Paul said, agreeing with him totaly, recklessly provoking the already angered resurrected Time Lord, "I'm a danger to you're happy go lucky life, aren't I? And after all I've done to Donna, I really don't deserve to live, do I?"

The Masters hands curled into fists, "You bastard," he whispered.

"After beating her," Paul continued, a smile still on his face, "After _raping_ her, you all keep tiptoeing around that, don't you? You must have known, all her screaming in the middle of the night, me going to her room? She didn't want to at first, but she was so beautiful, it got easier as time went on, as she lost her mind, made it all so much more _malleable_."

Then Paul had to stop talking because Donna straddled his waist, swinging a large, heavy, very deadly mallet in his face, smashing half his jaw in one blow.

Harriet gasped, her hands coming to cover her mouth in horror.

The Master smiled, too proud to speak.

And Donna raised the mallet a second time, before smashing it into Paul's face again, coming down on his skull, laughing merrily around her lollipop as bits of his almost biological brain speckled onto her face. "Did _you_ know, _Paul_, that I can _hear_ you? I could always hear you?" She raised the mallet again, smashing it down and crushing his nose in. "That I hate you? That first night, after you gave me the gift of life, after you came to my room, after you held me down, after you _raped_ me and _beat_ me for saying 'no', that I promised myself that I was going to kill you?"

She laughed again, observing Paul's face, as much as it was, smiling down at it, sucking on her lollipop, raising the mallet once more, "I must admit though," she said conversationally, "that I forgot for a time, I forgot most things, but, oh, it came back, it came back, it came back, it came back." She smashed the mallet into the bloody pulp of Paul's face, nodding maddly as brain matter splattered over her, not quite registering that he was already quite dead and wasn't able to hear her.

"I dreamt of this, not really the location I dreamed of, I admit, but just as good, don't you think?" she asked, raising the mallet again.

"I really thought we'd be alone as well, you know, catch you with your pants down or something, quite literally I suppose," she laughed, clobbering him with the mallet.

"But dreams never do come true, no, they don't, they don't, they don't, they really, really, really, really don't, doesn't that make you sad, doesn't it Paul?" She raised the mallet.

"Donna! Stop it, please!" Harriet begged, her hands reaching out for Donna.

Donna looked at her, her blue eyes shining out of the blood and gore on her face, on her clothes, dripping off the mallet, still raised above her head. Donna looked like a monster. She smiled at Harriet, popping the lollipop out of her mouth with her free hand, "Stop what?" she asked, her innocent voice sending chills down Harriet's spine.

**DISCLAIMER: If it were mine Donna and the Master would be partying while Ten does their dishes. Or something....**


	14. Chapter 14

**AUTHORS NOTE: Okay, I hope PIPINHEART is reading, 'cause I've changed my mind about how the Tardis came to Donna, so read on and tell me what ya think about the new way, eh?**

"It makes no sense, it's impossible," the Doctor muttered, accepting the cup of tea from the waitress, murmuring a small thank you belatedly.

"What is? _Exactly_ what is impossible?" Jack said, shaking his head sligtly as he smiled his thanks to the serving woman, causing the poor girl to blush.

The Doctor raised his head, watching as the their waitress left, leaving Martha, Jack and himself quite alone in their corner of the cafe. "Donna," he states urgently, "Donna should not exist, it is _i__mpossible_, the minute those memories returned to her she should have burned up, died, again. Being somesort of biological _machine_," he said, spitting out the last word, "Wouldn't have saved her, not at all."

Martha shook her head, placing her hands on the table top in front of her, "Then what did save her? She's clearly still alive, so much as she can be, so what did it?"

The Doctor ignored her, following his own tangent, his own little conversation with himself in his head. "That's how she called the Tardis to her, why the old girl even listened. Oh, that's brilliant!" he cried, leaning back in his chair, a grin of appreciation on his lips. "She's a machine," he said quietly, calculatingly, "Just like the Tardis."

Jack rolled his eyes and made a barrel roll sort of hand motion, he nodded his head, "Yeah?" he prompted.

The Doctor looked up, his eyes widening in surprise as he looked at Martha and Jack, and Martha and Jack knew it was because he had forgotten they were there. "Well," the Doctor began, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck, "The Tardis is somewhat sentient, you know that, both of you, or you should at least, anyway, she's a sentient machine, she's as much a Gallifrayen than I, she must have sensed Donna, but she probably thought it was another Tardis at first. Then she recognized the Doctor, me, in Donna, so the old girl listened when Donna called, came when she was needed."

"But the Tardis must have sensed you already? She couldn't have thought Donna was really you, you were standing right there!" Martha said.

"Yeah," the Doctor looked confused, "I don't know about that bit," he admitted.

"Okay," Jack said, draining his drink in one gulp before placing it on the table rather roughly, "what did you mean by 'Donna should be dead'?"

"Pretty self explanatory there, Jack," the Doctor said, takinga sip of his tea.

"So how is she still alive?" Martha asked again, her eyes drilling into the Doctor's unwaveringly.

He fidgeted, his face coming up into a sort of thoughtful grimace, "I," he fluttered, finally deflating right before their eyes, "I don't know," he answered meekly.

"Okay then," Jack said, standing up and throwing some money on the table, "lets go."

The Doctor's eyebrows rose, "go?" he echoed.

Martha stood, to stand beside Jack as he answered, "We're getting some answers here, okay Doc? Because this is starting to get old."

The Doctor stood, following Jack and Martha as they made their way to their rented car, which was procurred after the Tardis's abandonment, "Where are we going though?" the Doctor asked.

"We're speaking to her family, the mother's always know more then they say," Jack said, sliding into the drivers seat.

OOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO

"I don't have to tell you a damned thing!" Sylvia Noble screamed, pointing a threatening finger at Jack, who merely stood their with an underwhelmed expression on his face, his arms folded across his chest.

"If you want what is best for Donna-"

Sylvia interupted him, gesturing wildly with her raised hand, "You bloody spooks, bring him into my home!" she said glaring at the Doctor. "Coming into my house, telling me what's best for my family, who do you think you are?" she said, advancing a step towards Jack. Then Sylvia shook her head, her eyes watering, "And Donna's dead. My daughter is dead," she said quietly, lowering her hand, "what are you coming in here and talking about her for, she's dead and gone just like her father and her grandmother," she paused, looking lonely and lost and so, so sad, then she looked angry as she raised her finger again, "get out!" she demanded.

"No," Jack said, uncrossing his arms, pointing at her in turn, advancing on her, his carefree demeanor left behind long ago, "You are going to sit down," he said as the back of her knees met her couch, causing her to fall backwards onto it. "You are going to tell us about Donna, everything that happened to her since you saw him last," he said, gesturing at the Doctor.

Sylvia gulped, looking from Jack to the Doctor to Martha to the ground to a picture of Donna as a young woman on her wall and then back to Jack, "Fine," she said bitterly. Jack, the Doctor, and Martha sat down on various flat surfaces, their eyes trained on Sylvia's cold blue eyes, so much like Donna's, but not. "Almost a month after you left her here, Doctor, she fixed out microwave, with just a fork and a magnet."

The Doctor looked immensly interested, as if he himself were trying to figure out how to fix a broken microwave with a fork and a magnet.

Sylvia continued, "But everything was still fine, wonderful even, we were a happy family," Sylvia smiled wistuflly, her eyes still sad, "months went on, it was perfect."

Martha reached out to pat Sylvia's hand comfortingly, Sylvia shook her head, "But then Donna lost the baby."

The Doctor recoiled, as if hit by an actual physical fist instead of a simple statement, "What?" he squeaked.

Everyone ignored him, Jack leaned forward on the coffee table, his eyes narrowed, "What baby?" he asked.

"There was this man, Dan was his name, they were serious, they were in love, and she got pregnant," Sylvia said, taking a deep breath, "But then she lost the baby and he said he couldn't be reminded of it. He left her." Sylvia shrugged, adopting a cold glint in her eyes, trying to stay above the pain. "She started the drugs then, she couldn't deal with the pain," she huffed, almost amused sounding, shaking her head, "my Dad likes to say it was because of her dreams or that she could feel the Earth spinning, not that she didn't do those things, but she was strong, my Donna," she assured, pride in her voice, "no, it was the baby that finally did her in."

Jack nodded sympathetically, "What happened next?"

Sylvia glared at him, "What do you think happened next? She died, in an allley, like a rat, a Jane Doe until I came looking for her."

"I'm sorry," Martha said, her hand still over Sylvia's.

Sylvia turned to her, actually smiling at her, "You remind me of her a little, isn't that odd?" Sylvia asked.

Martha smiled sadly.

A tear escaped Sylvia's eye, "Donna was going to name the baby after my Mum, isn't that sweet? Donna never even met the woman, but I asked and she said 'of course'."

Sylvia nodded, looking down at her carpet, "A baby girl she would have had, Romana Sylvia Noble."

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine, wouldn't even pick Sylvia out of a free box at a yard sale.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: IT"S SHORT, BUT, OH, SO SWEET....**

Donna fell to the grating, clutching her head between her pale hands, landing with a dull clang right next to Paul's recently dead body. She began to whimper, a small, sad sound that blew across the Tardis control room like an icy wind, chilling Harriet Jones's very bones.

"Donna!" she screamed, running to her friend, pushing Donna's flaming hair back, laying a cool hand across Donna's brow. "Donna, please," she whispered.

Donna cracked her eyes open, her blue orbs radiating pain as she stared past Harriet, to look over Harriet's shoulder, to talk in a language Harriet didn't know, to whisper to the Master. The Master moved forward, to stand next to Donna and Harriet, to look down at them, craning his neck at an extreme angle to see them on the floor by his feet.

"What is she saying?" Harriet demanded, running her free hand over Donna's hair, tucking it behind her ear as Donna blinked back salty tears, as her nose began to spurt fresh blood.

"She..." the Master swallowed thickly, pausing before continuing in a louder voice, "She says it's alright, that it's going to be alright." The Master kneeled down, reaching over to hold Donna to him, one arm wrapped around her upper back, the other wrapping around her abdomen, rocking back and forth gently, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head.

Donna smiled at Harriet, snuggling weakly into the Master's embrace, her frail hand reaching blindly to grasp his arm, to squeeze affectionately. "Harriet, I'm sorry," she whispered, smiling indulgently, "I forget, sometimes..." the rest of her words slurred, half her face going slack before she shook uncontrollably in the Master's arms, her own half formed screams mixing with the Masters keening.

"NO," Harriet screamed, tears running down her face, her nose running as she reached forward to help the Master hold Donna as she shook.

And then Donna went limp in their arms, her breathing harsh, the Master and Harriet's arms the only things holding her up. Her head fell back against the Masters upper arm, her bright hair splayed out behind her face like a fiery crown, her eyes wide and staring at the golden hued ceiling above their heads. Donna licked her lips, her shaky breaths puffing out of her lungs too fast, "I forget you're not like us, I'll speak English for you," she finished, grinning up at Harriet.

"...What?" Harriet said, not comprehending what Donna was talking about, her brain reeling from so much emotional strain. Donna coughed, her body trembling as a fine spray of blood came out of her mouth, hitting both Harriet and the Master. Harriet flinched back, her mouth opening in surprise as Donna's blood dripped off the tip of her chin.

Donna smiled up at Harriet, her lips stained a dark red, her white teeth stained with blood, her beautiful smile turned into a clowns mocking grin. "It's alright," she assured them, her blue eyes wide, her fair skin turned an ashen gray, her voice shaking.

She turned in the Master's embrace, her hands coming up to cradle his face lovingly, to smile just for him, "It's alright, the Doctor will save us," she whispered, her eyes closing drowsily, her hands falling limp, the rise and fall of her chest barely showing.

The Master shook his head, looking down at Donna's unconscious face, touching her cheek lightly, kissing her bloodied lips, bitter tears running reluctantly down his face. "No, Donna, no," he said quietly, laying her gently into Harriet's arms, resting her half way on Harriet's lap, he stood, lurching upright, his eyes resting on Donna until he spun away. He fell forward onto the Tardis control's, begging the machine to follow him, to let him fly her, he closed his eyes, biting his lips as he waited for the acquiescing hum of the machine, sighing, relieved, as the Tardis shook into motion. He turned, his haunted eyes playing over Donna and Harriet, his eyes glancing down at Paul's corpse next to them. He turned, shaking his head as he pushed a lever down, whispering to himself, "No, Donna, _I'll_ save you."

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own it.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Long one, at least for me, so enjoy! (or else...buhahahawaa!)**

The Master was a slave to the Drums.

Those Drums, so loud, drowning all else, controlled his every motion, his every action, his very thoughts. Only giving him peace, growing quiet, but still so obviously _there_, when Donna smiled at him, when she held his hand, or kissed his cheek.

Because the Drums loved Donna Noble, they _loved_ her, the Master knew that, and deep down, in the recess of his mind that not even the Drums could see, he acknowledged that he was quite fond of her as well. The Drums loved her because she was unique, special, a mess of converging timelines and ancestry, a walking, talking, breathing paradox of great proportions. The Master liked her because of the way her hair shined in the sunshine, the way her laugh sounded late at night, the way her hand was soft and melded in his own.

But every time the Master thought of those sappy reasons he'd sigh and complain that humanity was ruining him.

And Donna would laugh, throwing her head back, wrapping her cold hand around the back of his neck and tell him that they were out of orange juice.

The Master landed the Tardis with a crash, rushing past Harriet and Donna on his way out the door when Harriet screamed at him, "Where are we?! Where are you going?! Sax, please, you can't leave me with her! She needs you!"

He turned, walking backwards down the ramp to the door, "I'm going to save her, watch and see, I'm going to save her, I'll be back, don't worry."

"Sax!"

He could barely hear Harriet's shrill voice over the Drums, their infernal beating never leaving him be, never wavering, ordering him to save Donna Noble, to save her, somehow. The Master opened the Tardis door's looking back at Harriet, crying and cradling the woman who'd turned too thin in the last months, who's bruised face was barely recognizable, who's mangled body and mind had finally broken completely, the woman who made the Drums happy, who made the Master happy.

"Sax, please!"

"I'm going to save her!" he yelled before closing the door after him, before running out into the sixty second century, before running to save Donna's life, running to stave off the misery and madness that came without Donna presence beside him.

OOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOO

Jack looked up at the Doctor, who had made a sort of strangled gasp, his mouth open wide, his jaw slack. Jack stood from his seat opposite Sylvia, he grasped the Doctor's shoulder and shook him, "What is it?" he asked, growing worried when the Doctor didn't respond.

Martha dropped Sylvia's hand and reached forward to push against the Doctor's chest with her hand, "Doctor?" she questioned, waving her other hand in front of his face in worry.

He took a deep, shaky breath, before focusing his eyes on Sylvia and erupting from his chair with enough force to knock it backwards off it's legs. His face hovered inches from Sylvia's, staring at the color of her eyes, the shape of her chin, the turn of her nose. Her lips turned downwards in a frown as she stood up suddenly, her eyes wide and suspicious in the light of the living room lamp.

"What's happening? Why are you asking me these questions, this isn't your business!" she screamed, she demanded, her voice cold and wary as she continued to back away from the Doctor.

"Tell me about your mother, Sylvia, it's important, tell me," the Doctor said, his brown eyes frantic, following in her footsteps like her shadow.

She shook her head, her short blonde hair swishing about her face as she turned and ran for the hall. The Doctor ran after her, shocking Martha and Jack as she grabbed Sylvia's upper arm, twisting her around to face him, his face scarily blank, "I said tell me," the Doctor said calmly.

"Tell you what?" she screamed, trying to shake herself free, her wool socks slipping on the hard wood floor.

"About her, what did she look like?" he urged, "where did she come from? What happened to her?"

Jack moved forward, his hands raised appraisingly, "Doctor, maybe you should take a breath-"

"No," he turned his blank face to Jack, his dark eyes unreadable, "no, Jack."

"Martha," Jack said, stepping forward and grabbing the Doctor's suit jacket, "please take Mrs. Noble to the kitchen," he said, pushing Sylvia next to Martha.

The Doctor shook his head, his hand grasping after Sylvia, even after she'd left the room. Jack grabbed the Doctor's chin with his hand, turning it to look into the Doctor's eyes, "Tell me," Jack said, "Now."

"Romana was my companion, I loved her, she was like me, Jack, a Time Lord, a Time _Lady_, it was so long ago," the Doctor whispered. The Doctor's empty eyes stared straight into Jack's soul, but then he shook his head, cleared his throat, and stuck his hands in his pockets, "but, ah, I was a different man." He sniffed, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the ground, "it's still a really big coincidence, if it is my Romana, could be some other Romana, unique name though, isn't it?"

The Doctor bounced on the ball's of his feet, avoiding Jack's eyes, "It was short for something else, I don't remember the whole thing, I'm an old man you know, called her Fred as well."

"I used to call her Rome," a voice said from the doorway.

Jack turned to see the old man, Wilf, standing in the doorway, his back hunched, his eyes wide with the realization that not everything was as it seemed, and Jack knew that he had heard the Doctor's hushed confession. The old man took a faltering step into the room, "That's where we met, in Rome, she looked like a beggar, all dirt and rags, and I liked being her knight in shining armor, I liked thinking she needed me."

The Doctor nodded his head, "I know how that feels," he concurred. "What did she tell you, Wilf?"

"Not a damned thing, not one thing Doctor, but it didn't matter, because she was beautiful and she needed me and I loved her."

"What did she look like?"

"Young, blonde, big eyes, tiny hands, she had two hearts," Wilf said, staring at the Doctor as he gasped softly, "She said it was a medical condition."

"And Sylvia, did she inherit this 'condition'?" the Doctor asked, moving towards Wilf as the old man sank down onto the couch, rubbing a tired hand down his cheek. Wilf nodded. The Doctor continued, sitting down on the coffee table opposite Wilf, "And Donna, Wilf, does Donna have two hearts?" he asked, his tone serious, his eyes darkened with suppressed emotions.

"Of course," Wilf shook his head, looking at the Doctor absently, "Did you ever know her? Doctor? Did you know anything about her besides the color of her hair and the strength of her slap?"

"She was my best friend," the Doctor said quietly, looking down at the floor.

"Her favorite color?" Wilf asked.

"Purple," the Doctor answered immediately.

"Her favorite food?"

The Doctor laughed quietly, "Blue berry pancakes, with real Vermont Maple Syrup, I had to make that for her once, after a little mishap with a mud monster."

Wilf swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, "Good then, good." He cleared his throat, sitting straighter on the couch, he looked the Doctor straight in the eye, "Now tell me what's happening, how Romana fits in this, and why I have a sneaking suspicion that Donna isn't as dead as we all thought she was."

OOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOO

Harriet rocked back and forth, cradling Donna's limp body in her arms, humming to herself as tears fell down her cheeks, as a pool of Donna's blood began to spread under them.

"Oh, Donna," she whispered, swiping Donna's hair off her face, her finger tips skimming Donna's forehead in a weak and trembling caress. "You're going to be fine, Sax will save you," she promised, her voice cracking.

She sniffed, wiping the back of her hand across her cheeks to clear the tear tracks off her skin, noticing for the first time the engagement ring Donna wore on her left hand ring finger. Harriet reached for the Donna's arm, holding it up to the light to look at the ring, the perfect ring, the ring that meant nothing now. Harriet tore the ring off Donna's finger, reminding herself to be gentle, so as not to hurt Donna, but in her rage she couldn't quite be bothered with that.

She turned as much as she could to glare at Paul's corpse, to throw that perfect ring at the pulp that used to be his face. "Look what you've done to us!" she cried, wrapping her arms more securely around Donna. Harriet closed her eyes, tears slipping through her dark lashes, "You've broken us," she whispered, rocking back and forth, soothing Donna's hair, and crying to herself in the Tardis control room, all alone except for a dead man and a dying woman.

**DISCLAIMER: If it were mine Donna Noble and the Master would be together, Harriet Jones would be with Mr. Copper, and Rose and 10.5 and 10 would have a much kinkier relationship.**


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Sorry, took a looooong time....**

"Donna is still alive," the Doctor said, "but she's actually dead."

Wilf sighed, swiping a hand across his face wearily. The Doctor began to pace about the room, gesturing subtly with his raised hands. "She died of a drug overdose, Wilf, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't there, but she didn't do it to herself."

"What?" Wilf said, his head snapping up.

"This man, Paul, he saw Donna, saw what she was, what she could be, and he wanted her for himself," the Doctor said, stilling for only a moment, to look at Wilf sadly. "He killed her, he made it look like she did it to herself, then he came for her at the morgue."

"But she was dead!" WIlf said loudly, and if not for his aching knees would have jumped to his feet. "Dead and gone!"

The Doctor turned, placing his hands in his pocket as he looked at Wilf, "Dead, yes, but not gone. Paul is from the sixty second century, far into humanity's future, they have these things, these _talibers_. They, they reanimate dead flesh by spreading through the body and jump starting it, they're machines that keep the body alive, in turn the body becomes mechanical in nature, I've only seen it done with animals, it's illegal to do it to sentient dead."

Wilf's eyes opened wide, his jaw hanging slack.

"So, he woke her up, brought her back, he couldn't let her back into her old life, apparently she tried to contact you, he punished her severely, Wilf."

"Punished?" Wilf asked, sitting closer to the edge of his seat, his eyes slitting angrily.

The Doctor had to look away from the old man, swallowing before answering sadly, "He beat her with a belt," he whispered.

Wilfred Mott, aching knees or no, jumped to his feet in outrage, gesturing futilely in his rage, "Bastard!" he yelled, punching his wall, leaving a fist sized dent. He turned to the Doctor, pointing at him, "Is this why you came to me that first time? Did you know my Donna was alive when you came to me?"

Jack took a step forward, placing himself between the Doctor and Wilf, his hands raised, "We didn't know what was going on, we couldn't risk your-"

"God damn you!" Wilf screamed, shaking his fist at Jack, "My grand daughter, my Donna, was out there suffering for years and you couldn't risk me, what I would do?"

The Doctor placed a hand on Jack's shoulder, pushing him away, to look at Wilf unobstructed, "After a time the blocks around the Time Lord knowledge in her head began to degrade, she remembered everything, and she burned, but she didn't die, and I didn't know why, until now."

Wilf let out a long breath, his entire demeanor wilting, "Romana?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, she was like me, a Time Lord, my companion actually for a time, but she left, when she came back she found you," the Doctor turned away from Wilf, looking down at the floor, "fell in love."

Wilf raised his hands, gesturing as he worked it out in his head, "Becasue Donna's grandmother, my wife, was what you are, Donna survived the meta-whatsit? She's alright?"

"No," the Doctor shook his head, moving around the coffee table, "no, I'm sorry, she's survived, but she's not a full Time Lord, only a quarter, that's not enough, there's a cost, she's lost her mind, sort of."

"Sort of?" WIlf asked, his eyebrows rising minutely.

"She'll have brief periods of lucidity, but those will grow farther and farther apart, she'll forget things, important things like her name, until eventually the talibers won't be able to fix all the damage being done to her brain. They'll fail her, she'll hemorrhage and die. Again."

Wilf fell onto the couch, tears building in his eyes, "But can't you fix her, Doctor, can't you save her?"

"No, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but even if she hadn't stolen my Tardis and run off, I still wouldn't be able to save her. There's nothing I can do now."

OOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOO

The Master ran into the Tardis jumped over Paul's corpse and skidded to a stop in front of Harriet and Donna, a manic, gleeful smile on his face. He grabbed Harriet roughly, shoving her violently to her feet, pushing her towards the door. "Sax, what are you doing?!" she demanded, struggling desperately to get back to Donna's side. "Stop it!" The Master shook his head, pushing her towards the door, using his greater strength to stop all her attempts at getting back to Donna. She pulled back, hitting him hard and fast in the face before falling back to the floor and crawling to Donna's side. "God damn it! Don't dare take her away from me!" she screeched, gathering Donna to her and glaring at the Master.

"You need to leave!" the Master said quietly. He ran a hand through his hair, his gleeful face starting to unnerve her.

"Why?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

"Because I don't know what these will do to you," he said as he pulled a tiny glass jar from his pocket, it glowed blue and hummed.

"What will they do to Donna?" she asked, looking at the jar with distrust.

His smile widened, "Save her," he promised.

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Doctor Who or the Whiffenpoofs, sadly.....**


	18. Chapter 18

**AUTHORS NOTE: Short? yeah.... But at least I got it up quick, yeah? And just so ya know, the end is nigh.**

"I don't care if the things in that jar give me a second head and turns me purple, because I'm not leaving her. If it saves Donna you do what you have to do, now!" Harriet demanded, glaring up at the Master's wilting smile.

His face hardened in anger, his eyes slitting before he raised the jar above his head, "Fine," he said, throwing the jar down, smashing it on the grating by the controls.

Harriet had enough time to gasp in surprise before yellow light surrounded her, Donna, and the Master, enveloping them completely, burning Harriet's vision a deep gold before she slammed her eyes shut. It felt like freezing water, it felt like burning coals, it felt like the darkness of space had come and devoured Harriet's mind and left her body floating in cotton. It was terrible and it was brilliant, it was beautiful and it was ugly, it was everything all at once, crashing on top of each other like an ocean wave. The pain was intense, worse then anything she'd ever had to gone through, even death by Dalek's.

She cradled her head in her hands, whimpering because if felt like it was about to explode, distantly she was aware that she had at one point fallen backwards to the ground, the cool metal of the grating was more then welcome though. "I'm sorry," she heard the Master's voice say quietly, not sounding sorry at all. She lashed out at him, not quite caring when he grabbed her hand instead, holding it gently as she thrashed on the floor.

"Your brain's rewiring," he told her, a smirk still stuck on his face when she opened her eyes and looked at him, "It'll get much worse in a moment."

Harriet groaned, rolling onto her side as the contents on her stomach spilled out over the Tardis floor, "I hate you," she croaked, glaring at him. She let go of his hand, crawling pityingly slowly towards Donna, Donna's face was violently flushed, sweat covering her brow as she thrashed about on the floor, her eyes opened wide and uncomprehending as she screamed. "What's happening to her?" she questioned, peering at Donna in worry.

The Master was quiet a moment, looking at Donna hollowly, his tortured gaze appraising Donna before turning away, "They're fixing her," he told her simply.

And then, well, it got much, _much_ worse. Harriet's chest felt too tight, like she'd inhaled to much air and couldn't exhale, she bucked wildly as a stabbing pain erupted on the right side of her chest. Her vision blurred, darkness clouding her, surrounding her in a cool, deep numbness, her head fell back with a dull thud as unconsciousness took her.

**DISCLAIMER: If it were mine you all would have seen this on the television.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Authors Note: Okay, so, this already existed but then i accidently erased it, so i had to rewrite it because I didn't back it up anywhere. So if you're rereading this and thinking 'hey, this isn't what i remember!' well, that's why. and it you're reading this for the first time, welcome! Welcome to the end! This is it!**

The Doctor opened the Tardis door warily, because, though the Tardis was his home, he hadn't seen his home for two weeks and that gave him pause. He walked up the ramp, hands in his pockets, eyes studying the corpse a few paces away as he continued on towards the console.

Martha, a few steps behind stopped at the corpses side, "The Master?" she asked, leaning over at the waist to observe the dead man.

"No," the Doctor said, twisting a few dials, "wrong color jacket."

"He looks only a few hours old, but it's been weeks!" Martha said, stepping over him, shuddering as the heel of her shoe met the tacky pool of blood.

"For him it _has_ only been a few hours," the Doctor said, his fingers ghosting over a data crystal resting on the console.

"Who do you think did it?" Martha asked, stepping up beside him, looking up into his angular face, "The Master?"

The Doctor shrugged, "Probably," he said, shoving the data crystal into a slot in the console.

Martha gasped and whipped around as the Master's image appeared behind them, smirking at them, glaring at them, and at his feet, Donna and Harriet bleeding and pale, unconsious. The Doctor turned slowly, his face taut, pained.

"Hello!" the Master called jovially, waving at where he thought the Doctor would be, which was actually about a foot to the left. "You see," he said, grinning, though his eyes were severe, "I've sent your precious ship back to you. After saving Donna's life."

The Doctor was silent, his hands going deeper into his pockets as he leaned back.

"It must be _so _frustrating, knowing I succeded where you failed. Always failing, Doctor," the Master laughed.

Martha gripped the Doctor's arm, peering up at him carefully, noting his locked jaw.

"I've sent your ship back to you, for a price."

"A price? Who does he think he is?" Martha hissed.

"Don't follow us," the Master said, grin gone as he looked down, first at Harriet, then at Donna, "Donna and Harriet, leave us be, take your ship and go." He looked back up at the Doctor, swallowing as he continued, "They're mine now, my companions, mine to care for, mine to protect." He looked back down at Donna, his eyes lingering, "Mine to love. Just let us go." He glared up at them for a second, just for a second, before his image disappeared, Donna's and Harriet's following a moment later.

* * *

Harriet Jones once asked the Master a question.

Sitting at their kitchen table, late at night, Donna sleeping, nestled against his side, balancing precariously on her chair, Harriet looked at him from over her tea. "Do those books scare you?" she'd asked, motioning towards the book in his hands, a book she'd read ten years earlier and had been scared of ever since. She lowered her tea onto the table, "It's meant to frighten you."

The Master had lowered his book, lips puckered in thought as he stared at the worn table top. "No," he answered, he shook his head, lifting his eyes to her own. "Do you know why? Harriet Jones?"

Harriet shook her head, intense curiousity narrowing her eyes.

"Because these books are about _us,_" he'd swallowed, smiling in the dim light, "I'm the monster that stalks the land, eating children and frightening old men. You're the ghost in the attic, wailing at the injustice of death and love. And Donna," he'd looked down at the sleeping woman, "the banshee that screams in the night and calls mortal men to their doom. We're the ghouls and spectres in the shadows, so no, Harriet, these books don't frighten me, because they are about me."

Harriet had pretened not to understand, had shaken her head and called him a nutter. But she _had _understood.

Because ever since waking up on a cold metal slab, Paul standing over her, smiling down at her, she'd felt a darkness in her soul. A darkness that made her a monster, that made them all monsters. The dead alive again.

And every morning since, she'd wake up and feel how far the darkness had advanced, how much of her soul remained and it was always less then before.

So it was with great surprise that Harriet Jones opened her eyes and couldn't feel the darkness, couldn't feel the chill in her hands. But she pushed it aside, because she was no longer in the Tardis, couldn't see the Master, and, most worryingly, couldn't see Donna.

She sat up on the park bench, scowling at the park that surrounded her. She glared up at the perfect blue sky, then at the children playing, rubbing at her eyes when they seemed to glow a dusty yellow. "What the hell?" she murmered, standing and stepping towards the children, unmindful of the wary glances the parents were giving her.

"Harry!"

She turned sharply, sighing in relief as Donna ran towards her, arms wide as she crashed into Harriet. Harriet took a moment, just a moment, to squeeze Donna, to reassure herself of the other woman's presence, before she pulled away, hands running over Donna's face. "Are you alright? Donna?" Harriet asked, finding no wounds anywhere, no blood.

Donna drew Harriet's hands down, holding them in her own as she smiled at her, "Gone," she trilled, her voice almost steady, almost sane, "I mean fine, fine," she assured.

Harriet looked down at Donna, noticing her clean clothes, and the weird glow that now surrounded her, "Do you see that?" she whispered, gesturing crossly at Donna's figure.

"We see like him now," Donna whispered, urging Harriet forward, pulling the older woman with her as she began to run, red tresses flying behind her.

Harriet couldn't stop her, so merely ran with her, guiding her around various people and objects, "Like who? What are you _talking_ about?!"

But Donna wasn't listening, and had only eyes for the man in front of them.

Harriet tore her hand away from Donna's, pointing at the Master threateningly, finally stretched too thin, "What the hell is going on?" she hissed, the tip of her ginger a fraction from his face.

"I've saved Donna," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the entire world and she was an idiot for asking.

"How!?" she growled.

He shook his head, chuckling as Donna came to his side, "Does it matter, Harriet Jones? I've saved Donna, Paul is gone, we're free, and I've even somehow brought us all back to life! Isn't it fantastic? Why do you need the answers?"

"How?!" she screamed.

He smiled and grabbed her hands, placing them on either side of her chest. She felt the steady thrum of two hearts beating and nearly fainted from the shock, "What the _hell_?" she asked, eyes as wide as saucers.

Donna came forward, wrapping her long arm around Harriet's waist, smiling at her, "He made us like him," she pushed Harriet's hair from her eyes, "he gave us our life back, will you be happy? Please be happy."

Harriet looked at Donna, lovely Donna, pale in the sunlight, long red hair flinting like fire. She still looked sickly, but there was a pinkness to her cheeks that Harriet had never seen before, and a smile in her eyes that had never been there with Paul. She looked as graceful as a paper crane and just as frail in her purple skirt. She was surrounded by gold, it enveloped her, it came from her, it _was _her. She was as bright as the sun, Harriet couldn't look at her for long.

She looked at the Master, handsome in his dark suit, with his sculpted hair and arrogant grin. He was as dark as the night, it came from him, it surrounded him, a shade so dark it could hardly be called a color at all.

"Time Lords," Harriet said, not a question.

The Master nodded.

"Where's the Tardis?" Harriet demanded, "Time Lords are meant to travel."

The Master scowled, "Because you know so much about Time Lords," he hissed. But Donna was at his side a moment later, fitting beautifully to his side, running a gentle hand down the lapel of his jacket, smiling up at him. He didn't look down at her, but Harriet could see how his shoulders sagged, relaxed in Donna's embrace, "Well," he continued, anger gone, "I gave her back, but nicked this on the way out," he held up an ugly tan rock.

Harriet rose a dubious eyebrow, "An ugly tan rock?" she asked.

"Not _just _an ugly tan rock. It'll grow, into what, I wonder?" he asked, smiling down at Harriet, wrapping an arm around Donna's waist.

Donna voice floated by, a wistful and carefree whisper, "A Tardis," her smile widened as she raised her arms around the Master's neck, pulling him down to kiss him soundly.

Harriet's thoughts were unclear for a moment, whether this was right or wrong, it they were meant to exsist or not, if a madman like the Master should be free. But then she realized what was being offered to her, a new life with her best friend, a _very _long new life, if the files about Time Lords were true. A time machine and a space ship, all the universe her playground, nothing and no one to stop them. Freedom. Harriet ran forwards and wrapped her arms around her friends necks, laughing.

She was too happy to notice the steady beat of the Drums at the back of her mind.

She was too preoccupied to notice their steady call for blood.

She did not hear their shrill cries of victory as they realized their power had exponentially grown.

**DISCLAIMER: NOT MINE! NEVER MINE!**


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